


Obliviation

by CBronte



Series: Bequeathment [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Bronte - Freeform, Death Eaters, F/M, Fanfiction, HarryPotter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Malfoy, Obliviation, Romance, Slytherin, Spicy, Tragedy, brontefanfiction, cbronte, draco - Freeform, dracofanfic, dracolovestory, dracomalfoy - Freeform, hogwartsschoolofwitchcraftandwizardy, madaleinemalfoy, slowburn, smuttyfanfic, smutwarning, voldemort - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 66,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBronte/pseuds/CBronte
Summary: A year has passed since a terrible accident separated them. While she has been in a deep coma recovering from her injuries, Draco has drastically changed from the ongoing Wizarding War. Believing her to be dead drove him into darkness, forcing him to lock away his memories of her in a vain attempt to erase the pain of her loss and remain focused on his Death Eater duties to capture Harry Potter and deliver him to the dark lord. The moment she awakens he becomes aware of her location via the bequeathment mark that connects them. He will claim her back from The Order members, only to find that they have obliviated her memories of him in what was meant to be an act of sympathy. Neither can remember much of their past relationship and tension is high between them. Madeleine will undoubtedly need to evolve in order to navigate and survive the dark world that she has woken up and found herself in, but just how far will she have to go?{Book One: Bequeathment by CBronte/Bronte Fan Fiction}WARNINGS: Sexual Scenes|Trauma|GoreNote: With deep respect for JK Rowling, the author of Harry Potter. I do not claim any rights to the original work, this is simply a fan fiction story.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Madeleine Malfoy
Series: Bequeathment [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198877
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

The sun rose as it always had, it's blinding rays blanketing all living things along the coast of England. The water of the Thames continued it's relentless flow out to sea from central London, carrying with it the filth of humanity. Birds chirped, perched on picketed fences in the country side. The day had begun as usual.

One thing that was particular to that day was the awakening of a girl who'd been asleep for almost a year. Frozen in time like a true sleeping beauty, she had dreamt of a world she used to belong to, now long forgotten to her conscious mind. She would lose it all the moment she awoke. Her golden waves of hair radiated around her in beautiful rivers and her face was soft with the with the ignorance of obliviation. 

Fort Maunsell groaned and creaked from where it perched in the water of the English Channel in the North Sea. From the deck of the abandoned World War Two fort, the coast of Britain presented itself as a thin line, barely legible to the human eye. Wizards and witches paced the hard metal panels of the fort that stood rickety above the lapping oceanic waves. The Order of the Phoenix was alive, albeit, not alive and well.

The wizarding war had taken it's toll on the small army, who had had to continuously change hideouts and safe houses. Fort Maunsell had held up well, surviving from the very beginning as the most protected and reinforced station. It was a set of seven hut-like metal buildings, all supported by a quadrant of metal legs above the water. The buildings were connected by cantilever catwalks and the sheer rust of the exteriors provided no rest for wandering eyes. It was the very paragon of decay, abandoned by muggles as a now useless concept. 

The morning was cool with the notes of winter still clinging to the air. March on the ocean was not a forgiving environment, and those standing guard on the decks were consistently reminded of it as the wind tore at their vain attempts to preserve their body heat.

A shrill and unnerving scream woke every inhabitant of the decrepit sea fort before the sunrise had concluded. The girl was writhing in her bed where her arms were clamped down by magic-reducing restraints, the metal biting into her flesh as she fought to gain freedom. No longer a picture of peace was her face, as she shrieked mercilessly.

Ronald and Ginny Weasley reached the door simultaneously, glancing at each other temporarily before blasting it open. Three-hundred and forty-five days had passed since her accident, and no one had been sure if she would even wake. She had been rescued and taken as an uncertain good; perhaps a hostage, perhaps leverage, perhaps even an ally. The real reason behind her saving had been long forgotten with the absence of those who performed it.

Ginny rushed to her side and paused, a look of disgust crossing her face as she stared down at the other girl. She had never been fond of the Slytherin girl and now she was tasked with dealing with her. "Stop it, no one is hurting you," she commanded bitterly.

The girl stopped hollering and laid there shivering with terror and rage in her white nightgown. The room was inappropriately frigid from the lack of insulation. Her golden eyes were red with tears which ran down her pale face in streaks. She shoved her head far back into her pillow, arching her back like a cat and stared with hooded eyes between Ginny and Ronald, "Where am I? Is dis Hogwarts?" Her unused voice came out scratchy and hoarse with uncertainty.

Ron and Ginny shot each other grimaces at the mention of the name. The walls alone spoke for themselves that it was not Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy they were in. The timeworn metal was rich with rust even on the interior, and the scent of the ocean and decay dominated the small room. 

Ginny pursed her lips before finally responding, "No. We're at a safe house, on the ocean. What do you remember, Madeleine?"

Another two boys appeared at the doorway to check on the affair and Ron dismissed them. Madeleine's eyes were busy taking in the small room with wonder. Her breathing was unnecessarily ragged as her ribs jutted back and forth with the request of her lungs. When she finally spoke, the words came out dripping with her Parisian accent "Dere...dere was an accident. I was in a car accident." It was all she could muster as the tears began bristling again, only now they were soft and sad, "I was at Hogwarts...I was a student, and den I was in a car crash. I 'ad to get somewhere. I 'ad to be somewhere but I don' remember." She whimpered softly, seeming to have a sense of pain but unsure of why. She yanked savagely against the restraints again as though they would suddenly open for no reason.

Ginny pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat, Ron remained standing with an uncomfortable expression across his face, his ginger hair now hung long and wavy to his neckline. He was gaunt and underfed, tired from the war and from grieving the loss of loved ones. Ginny who had a similar appearance crossed her legs looking particularly pitiless, "Do you remember a man named Draco Malfoy?" She cut right to the chase, narrowing her eyes at the helpless girl.

The girl's eyes glazed over. She stared at the ceiling looking faraway and lost. Her eyes eventually slid to Ginny, and in a small voice she simply said, "No."

Ginny grinned wickedly, "Good. Trust me, he's the very symbol of evil."

Ron looked murderous and hardly let Ginny finish her sentence, "Symbol of evil? More like straight of bloody hell! If I ever get my hands on him I'll...I'll pull out his innards and hang him by his guts while he's still alive!" His yelling caused the girl in the bed to wince in fear.

"Ron, get a grip," Ginny warned, turning back to Madeleine, "He tried to kidnap you. We rescued you, but just barely. He's a follower of the dark lord, who has risen again. He's a highly treacherous death eater. And we," She motioned her hand around the room, "We are what's left of The Order of The Phoenix. We are fighting for our freedom against Voldemort himself."

The beautiful girl looked pale as she took in the numerous counts of confusing information. Ginny held her gaze blankly, allowing her to register what she'd just said. Ron kicked at the bed post restlessly, clearly wanting to butt in.

"Why did 'e kidnap me?" Madeleine feebly questioned with a puzzled expression.

Ginny sighed in exasperation, "He was obsessed with you. He raped you and forced you to marry him. It's better that you don't remember any of your memories with him."

Madeleine let out a cry of anguish at the statement. Even without the memory of anything that had happened, the thought alone that she had been raped and was forcefully married was punishing enough. She angled her head on the pillow to send Ginny a horrified look, "And...de dark lord has returned? What es 'appening in France?"

The question confused both Weasleys. "Nothing is happening in ruddy France," Ron barked in aggravation. His fingers were now wrapped angrily around the metal bars of the bed frame near her feet, "It's England that's burning!" His roaring tone echoed around the tiny metal room.

Madeleine looked uneasy, and Ginny finally offered some explanation, "He hasn't been able to take over anything further than England. Yet. Your family is safe. Not that they deserve it, filthy dictators."

"Why can't I remember anything?" Madeleine begged.

"When you were pulled from the car wreckage you were obliviated for your own sake," Ginny quipped, saying it like it was a fact and nothing more, "You probably think you're seventeen, but you're actually nineteen." The reality that the girl had lost two years of sentience clung to the air like a noxious gas and Madeleine shook her head in shock.

Almost as the words had left her mouth, Ginny watched the girl begin wailing again, yanking against one of her shackles, "My-my neck! It burns! Something is wrong!" Her tears slid out of her eyes in droves of hot currents. Ron sent her a pitying look.

Ginny closed her blue eyes without regard for the suffering before her, "There's nothing you can do about that. It's the Malfoy Crest on your stupid neck. We've confirmed it's unremovable. It's part of your betrothal to him."

They watched as she writhed and begged for it to stop. Her frail body arched and curled in misery from the scalding crest. Little beknown to any of the inhabitants to the room it was trying to call to the very person who had given it to her, somewhere far across the tides of the water, far across London, and somewhere deep in the country side at a certain demonic manor.

"You know how powerful she is, she's gonna burn the bloody place down!" Ron cried. 

"She can't, she's being kept magicless," Ginny pointed to the shackles around Madeleine's wrists. When she finally laid still, panting and weeping, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Ron was digging his palms into his eyes to avoid the awful imagery of her torment.

Ginny stood and approached the bed, "Listen, Madeleine, we're going to need your help to fight against Malfoy and some other very dangerous people. You're an invaluable ally given his interest in you, and of course your Veela powers which you will need to master. Can we count on that?" She placed her wand against the shackles suggestively, her freckled face was cold with apprehension.

Madeleine's eyes drifted down to the display. She paused to consider the offer, albeit completely out of other options, and then gently nodded her head, "Okay. I will 'elp you."


	2. ﴾ The Lesser Of All Evils ﴿

Ron shot me a skeptical gaze as Ginny unlocked the shackles on my arms which were pinning me to the bed. The distrust on his expression made me deeply uncomfortable. I surmised that he must have known me in the past, and it was very odd that I didn't know him at all due to being obliviated.

My body ached in every possible place that it could ache and I moved extremely slowly to fully sit up. Bruises around my wrists had sunken deep from the pressure of the shackles and my long hair felt dirty and unkempt. My fingers shot to the back of my neck which was no longer burning. The scalding hot pain that had been there before had vanished entirely, but I felt mounting suspicion that it would burn again. If it was connected to some evil, insane death eater who was searching for me than he probably wouldn't hesitate to use it to locate me. My heart panged with anxiety at the thought of whoever he was showing up to take me away to a life of rape and torture. I fought back the urge to instantly hurl.

A headache bloomed in my temples as I frantically searched my memories for any recollection of the past two years. How much of that time had I been in a coma? I recalled being on the train to Hogwarts as a young seventeen year old...being sorted into Slytherin House...a few days of that first week where I was walking to classes and discovering the layout of the massive castle. Then it abruptly skipped to the loud sound of a car engine, gears jumping at high pitches. Everything was panicked and I was screaming. I was seated in a luxurious interior that resembled more of a cockpit. The windows were blurred by the dangerous speed the expensive car was driving at. A monstrous and deafening crunch as the vehicle blasted through a barrier and dove over a cliff towards the ocean, shattering glass inwards. Hot slicing of shards imbedding themselves in my skin. My body was thrown in every possible way around the interior of the car, bones broke in every angle. My head smashed into the dashboard.

The memory shook in my mind, unstable. I remembered freezing cold water and desperately pushing with broken fingers on the window to escape. Then, nothing. It was odd that such a small and random segment of the car crash had remained in my memory but nothing else. It was as though the person who had obliviated me had been rushing to do it and the job had been messy, leaving behind a small fragment of the ending.

I blinked as tears I couldn't explain rolled down my face. 

The girl named Ginny stared at me heartlessly as I turned my trembling hands over in front of me. There were white scars all over my fingers and up my forearms at haphazard angles. It was likely from the glass of the supercar upon impact with the guardrail. I whimpered in fear at what the final outcome was for my face, my vanity rising to the surface in an untimely manner.

The red-haired girl seemed to read my mind. She snorted judgmentally, "You'll get used to that. This is a war. There's no time for pretty dresses and beauty products." She was leering down at me. So she must have known me before too, I mused in my head, and she didn't like me. I had quite a penchant for fancy dresses with bows, and for carrying around decorative umbrellas and anything else aristocratic. Coming from a wealthy pure-blood French family had impacted my choices in clothing and materials greatly. The Weasley's however, didn't seem to share the same values. They were dressed in drab, basic clothing. Jeans and long sleeves that looked worn.

My eyes wandered over her body. Her left eyelid was badly deformed, leaving her with a lop-sided appearance. There were scars all over her pale neck, rising out of her shirt like thorns.

I swallowed, dreading the mirror.

She moved around the bed to stand next to Ron, "We don't want any trouble from you. Please just be respectful while you're here. There's a makeshift shower two buildings down from yours. Be careful on the catwalks - they're pretty weather worn. We can start strategizing tomorrow." She nodded and was gone, Ron followed her after sending me a nasty look. A wave of annoyance rolled over my mood as I realized she had barely given me any directions to the shower.

"Oh and Madeleine ?" I watched as her face reappeared, "You can't leave so don't try. You're bound to the perimeter so you couldn't even if you wanted."

I sat shaking in disbelief that I wasn't in a nightmare. Could this really be reality? I looked around the rusty room again with horror and sadness. The bed was arguably disgusting - the sheets were outdated and stained, the frame was lopsided and rusted.

Suddenly a searing panic lurched into my heart. I frantically pulled at my neck for the gold chain that I always wore with my moonstone on it. The precious family heirloom was missing. Had one of those poor looking red head rats stolen it? I was furious. I would have to pressure them for more answers the next day.

I slid my legs over the edge of the bed and noticed more scars on my skin there too. I pressed my feet to the icy floor with nervous dread of the coming pain. I was correct; the moment that I applied pressure trying to stand, my legs almost gave out from the agony of the bones being used for the first time since healing. I was distinctly aware of what it felt like to be one hundred years old in that instant. I cried out as I shuffled forward feebly. 

One step. 

Two steps. 

I could do it. I would go to the so called make shift shower and renew my grace and dignity. Then I would look for my wand, which was likely a long shot.

Wobbling to the door took a solid few minutes. I heaved in sharp breaths of air that burned my throat. Out in the hallway it was much the same as it looked in my room. Odd muggle items hung from the walls looking positively ancient and covered in dust. There were war relics of sorts, and bizarre charts regarding safety measures. The floors which were a rusted metal had gaping holes in them, allowing for unwanted views straight down into the dark ocean below the structure. 

The wind blew in frightfully, and my dirty nightgown did little to provide comfort. I was stricken with wonder as to how I would manage to shower in any way in those temperatures. I reached another doorway with a large circular hatch on it and groaned in protest as I slowly twisted it, my fingers clearly not pleased with the rotating pressure.

It swung open to a fragmented looking catwalk. I grabbed the edge of the opening as the door blew brutally back and forth on it's hinges in the gale force, threatening to unhinge and blow away altogether. The ocean was roiling precariously against the structures that made up the fort; massive waves sprayed up on the metal legs that supported several huts with a similar decrepit exterior. It was perfectly hypothetical that if one fell off of the platform in any way that it would result in a very quick drowning. I could see a man pacing several catwalks away, seeming to be a guard.

Why on earth would this be considered a safe house? I thought in spoiled aggravation. The place was practically a ship wreck off the coast of Britain, and it was filthy and retched. With a pounding heart I poked my head out of the door, certain that I wouldn't even make it across the catwalk. I was never a strong swimmer and I would drown immediately. 

I carefully stepped out and clung to the rickety railing for some semblance of security. My toes were freezing already. I moved less than gracefully across the suspended walkway to the other side. Inside, the building was an exact replica of the one I had just left. Several grumpy looking wizards in dirty clothing gave me disdained glances as I opened their personal quarters to investigate the rooms. I passed entirely through this building and back out onto an even worse for wear catwalk.

I had made it about halfway across, finally starting to feel stronger, when I heard an loud crack behind me. I turned slowly, gripping the railing with both hands. My hair blew violently around my body. It had grown even more while I was in the coma and I knew I probably looked like a homeless Rapunzel.

A guard had appeared behind me, probably annoyed that I was blocking the walkway like an old woman. His face certainly expressed irritation; I was completely blown away by how fierce and wicked he looked. 

Compared to the other inhabitants of the fort he was dressed far too neatly. He was wearing spotless, expensive black clothing. His robes were blowing in the wind with elegance. A head of bright, platinum hair whipped around his pointy face. Eyes of a seriously piercing blue flickered over every part of my body. His expression was tense, but there was a hint of absolute shock in the way his eyebrows were raised.

I noticed that he was very young, probably my age. Thin, fit, quite handsome in fact. I inhaled sharply, suddenly feeling embarrassed for being out in the dirty night gown. My appearance was probably appalling and I hadn't even had a chance to check the status of my face yet. 

"I-I am quite sorry, sir," I stammered loudly over the wind. He was only several feet away although I felt I would need to shout due to the gale forces around us, "Am I blocking your way?"

He didn't answer me, just stared at me without moving. His hands were in his pockets and his eyes were fierce. I noticed an angry looking scar over the bridge of his nose. He was analyzing me like I was a polar bear caught on a hot beach, and I instantly began to feel nervous.

I knit my eyebrows together, sending him a look of concern, "Do you need to go dis way?" I repeated the question with a shaky voice. The temperature was sub zero and my fingers and toes were burning. 

I gasped as a sharp pain stabbed into my neck again. My hand flew up instinctively to the area, rubbing in desperation, and my body swayed in the wind from only holding on with one hand. I saw an odd glint in his eyes and he stepped towards me slowly, his shoes making loud metallic clanks on the catwalk. He stopped right in front of me and I cowered under his lethal gaze. His hand shot out and pulled my face upwards by my chin as he evaluated my features. 

I struggled against the aggressive clutch of his fingers on my jaw and the acidic scald on my neck. My hair whipped between us and the archetypal stench of the ocean lingered in the moist air, little flecks of water sprayed lightly on us. A feeling of deep dread began to course through my veins as I noticed that there was a faint, black smoke curling off of his clothing. The wind had been carrying it away with such haste that I hadn't noticed it before, but the proximity of his body now gave it away. The dread and sadness grew in my heart as the dark smoke clutched at my dress and my face. 

"Let. Me. Go." I said, matching his gaze. He was not a member of The Order. He was a Death Eater, possibly even my kidnapper. I was shaking, both from freezing and also with growing fear. He smirked at me then, looking vile and wicked. His reaction mocked any strength I was pretending to possess. 

"Hey!" I heard another man yell. My eyes slid over to the young guard that had been pacing on the catwalk a few buildings away. He had his wand pointed at the handsome Death Eater as he yelled for help. The sound of metal clanking and slamming erupted around the fort. 

"Malfoy! It's Malfoy!" He was shrieking now, and a hole formed in my gut confirming that it was in fact my kidnapper who was grabbing my face. Malfoy reached up his other hand and wandlessly disarmed the guard who was running down the catwalk towards the building between us. His wand flew into the ocean misfortunately. I looked up at my assailant feeling my bottom lip trembling, tears sprouted from my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. 

His furious blue eyes focused on my trembling lips. I could see that he was thinking, "Do you remember me?" He asked curtly, his eyes searched mine resentfully. 

"N-No, but I-I know what you did to me," I fumbled on the words pathetically. A door behind him slammed open as Ginny stepped out, pointing her wand at him. Before she could cast anything, he swiftly lifted his hand and she flew backwards from where she had come from, the door slamming shut again.

He snorted, "Tell me, what did I do to you?" His eyes gleamed cruelly as they darted back and forth between mine.

I wheezed, choking on my tears. Why was it taking everyone so long to reach me? "You-you raped me. You forced me to marry you. You kidnapped me." He let my chin go then, shoving my face to the side and I hung my head down low to break eye contact. My hand slid back on the railing as my feet inched backwards away from him. 

"Remember this, Madelyn. Only one of those things is true, and it is the lesser of all evils." I heard a crack like lightning and he was gone. I curled up against the railing, sobbing, as Ginny and the other guard both managed to finally open doors on either end of the catwalk.


	3. ﴾ The Prize of Slytherin ﴿

"You let him get away," Ginny was accusatory as she faced the young wizard that had been guarding the catwalk during the assault. I was pinned against the wall by magical force, as if invisible tape held me there. I couldn't open my mouth or speak at all, only capable of watching helplessly. The man was clearly frustrated as he paced around the room. Ron and a few other unrecognizable individuals sat at a table nearby.

The space was the largest I'd seen yet in the drab complex. We were in the central building which comprised of one completely open area. Odd, bulky computers lined an entire wall on the far end of the room, overlooked by square window openings. They would never work again; they were ancient. Large buttons jutted up from their interfaces begging to pushed, but the thrill would be short lived as the screens were dark and lifeless, some computers were lopsided as the floor gave way below them. The crooked table in the center of the room was piled high with paperwork and notes, and a bucket that was filled with random wands. I eyed the bucket with intent as the two young order members argued amongst themselves about what to do next.

"You know how powerful he is!" The guard retorted in aggravation.

"Excellent, Neville. Now you don't have a wand. You'll be weaker with one that doesn't belong to you," Ginny ridiculed him. 

The boy named Neville sighed dramatically. He put his hand to his forehead, hiding his eyes. He was tall and slim, long brown hair fell to his collar, and I could see the beginnings of a beard along the edge of his sharp jawline. He was inappropriately wearing a Christmas sweater which was defined by rips and tears all along the worn fabric.

Ron stood then, looking miserable, "He's been to the fort, and he knows she's alive. We need to move. Maunsell is compromised, Ginny."

She spun to face him with a look of determination, "And where should we go now, Ron? And who's to say he won't just follow us there? Face it, the plan didn't work. We aren't strong enough to challenge him. If we move, she has to go back in the shackles so he can't trace us." Everyone turned to look at me with bitter expressions.

Ron's face blistered with annoyance, "We can't put her back in the shackles if she's supposed to be training with her Veela powers."

"She's a liability. We should just put her out of her misery," A short, petite witch stood up from the table abruptly. Her brown bob bounced with the rapid motion. I sent daggers at her from my wordless entrapment against the wall. It was difficult to read the houses of everyone in the room, but so far it just seemed to be all Slytherins.

Ginny pressed her lips into a solid line of distaste as Neville stepped forward angrily, "We're not murderers, Pansy. Besides, Ron is right. We need her powers to fight him. We just need to keep her safe long enough to figure this out."

Ron growled, "So we can't hide her from him. It's impossible. That prick will always know where we move her." His face scrunched into a collage of hard lines and my heart leapt with fear that he would rather side with the girl named Pansy.

It was silent. My eyes flickered between the mean girl with the bob who stood at the table, Ron, Neville pacing, and Ginny glaring at me.

"Madeleine," Ginny eventually commanded my attention having obviously made up her mind on the matter without anyone else's permission, "He's going to keep showing up. We have no time to waste on honing your abilities. We're going to move to the mainland so we have a better chance to attack him when he does make an appearance. The design of this fort is evidently holding us back. You need to be ready to work hard." Her tone was businesslike and dripping with acid. People around the room groaned with the decision and several pairs of eyes narrowed on me. 

The move to the shore was long and awful. The group had to do so without the use of magic in order to reduce the likelihood of being traced. Neville had pulled the ripcord on several ancient looking rubber dingy's and I'd had to sit with Pansy, who had laced her fingers unapologetically through my hair and pulled my head towards her at an awkward angle. Every time that a wave crashed into the boat I had to endure agonizing tugs from where she was commanding my posture into an arc. The boats were beyond expired and the threat of sinking was constant; freezing water pooled around our feet. When we drifted up to the shoreline it was pitch black, and as the dingy's smashed into the rocks Ron started to whine.

"How the hell are we supposed to get out of the boats here?" He barked at Ginny who was seated next to him. Like everyone else he was entirely soaked, long red hair hung damply against his coat.

She stood, wavering in the motion of the raft as the water smashed into the shore, "We can't just show up at the docks, Ron, the muggles will question it." She squared herself and leapt bravely onto the rocks. She was only scrambling for seconds before gaining control and climbing up to the bushes above. One by one the other witches and wizards followed suit, abandoning the old military rafts. When everyone else had cleared save for Pansy and I, she pointed her wand at my neck and whispered, "Jump for it, princess. If you try anything I'll make sure you stop breathing."

When she'd released my hair I stood hesitantly. It was difficult to maintain a straight spine with the lapping of the ocean below the rubber craft. I inhaled and held my breath, jumping from the raft towards a large, slanted rock. The landing tore at my legs which were still exposed from the horrible nightgown. By the time I'd reached flat ground above, I was covered in dirt and numb from the wet and cold. The indecency of the outfit sent chills of embarrassment through me as I noticed several of the boys eyeing me. The gown had flattened itself to my naked body below, and without any undergarments it was as though I was in a wet T-shirt contest. 

"Why don' you take a photograph," I said through chattering teeth. Their eyes floated downwards finally, as Pansy stood next to me again. She had a look of pure enjoyment across her dainty features.

I took in her appearance as we started walking up a farmer's lane. She was small and beautiful, albeit her cold and callous attitude. It wasn't long before she became cognizant of my wandering eyes, "If you've got a crush on me you can spare yourself the heart ache. I don't meddle with females." Her fingers dug into my back even harsher than before as she shoved me ahead of her.

I suddenly felt indignant, "Me neither," I spat, trying not to trip in my bare feet on the gravelly lane. She smirked but said nothing. The interaction had sent me reeling. I probably knew her before as well and evidently it was giving her a good laugh, "Did I know you?" I asked with suspicion.

A sly grin appeared across her face as she said, "Oh, yes. We knew each other in Slytherin. You were nothing but a pain in the arse, always chasing Malfoy around. You deserve exactly what you got." 

I choked on my breath at the rude insinuation. The moonlight was illuminating her face and emphasizing the cruel expression across it. My toes were bleeding from not being given any shoes, and I had become so cold that my body was shaking violently.

"Why would I chase 'im?" I asked vainly, already having an idea as to why. He was obviously very handsome and that was all it took for me to act less than lady-like with men. He couldn't have been a death eater when we were at Hogwarts though, could he? There was no way that I knew what he was before I'd involved myself.

She huffed, "Let's just say, you were a desperate little bitch. Not that the rest of us didn't try to take a drink from that cup though. Malfoy was always the prize of Slytherin."

I winced as my foot came down onto a sharp rock, "Den why would 'e need to rape me if 'e was so desirable?" 

"That part I'm not so clear on. He literally lost his virginity to you," Pansy trailed off in thought, before shaking her head and giving me another shove, "It doesn't matter. Like I said, whatever he did to you in your private time you deserved it."

I visibly gaped at her but she avoided making eye contact with me. I decided right there that I was not fond of Pansy and she would be the first one to suffer if I had regained my wand and independence. 

We'd walked for an hour when small cottage-like farm houses started to dot the landscape. We were in an incredibly rural portion of England and not many people seemed to live in the area. It was silent and short gusts of wind blasted at our faces as we squinted in the darkness, apparently walking in no particular direction.

"This is about as much patience as I have for this little stroll," Pansy complained from beside me, "Weasley - where the fuck are we going?"

Ginny gave her a salty glare, "The only reason you're still alive Parkinson is because of us. How about a little gratitude? We're going to try and find an abandoned homestead so keep your eyes peeled."

My emotions matched Pansy's frustration at the situation. It seemed that The Order members were wildly unprepared and irresponsible. The idea of wandering around all night, freezing, soaked and shoeless hoping to find an abandoned house to curl up inside of was appalling. I'd already spent a lifetime in a stunning French castle with butlers and double doors leading to every spotless room. Incredible pastel wall paper had dazzled every space, along with gold ornamentation and superior antique furniture. Now I would be sleeping in a dilapidated barn if I was lucky, wearing a nightgown I'd worn for almost a year straight.

"Oh right, kind of like your old house?" Pansy quipped mockingly. Ron and Ginny both scowled but refused to pay her any more attention. I tugged at the shackles on my wrists, as though any effort would loosen the tight restraints from digging into my skin. My magic had been silenced again and I was brashly aware of the void that it left in my soul. 

It was nearly sunrise when Neville called out at the front of the group, motioning to a small brick building that had boarded up windows. It was isolated in the country side and surrounded by wheat fields, barren for the winter. We begrudgingly stepped through the doorway which was wide open to the elements. Inside the deserted home was an overpowering stench of rot and must. We all watched as a young wizard collapsed into a couch only for a plume of dust to erupt around him, cursing in a Scottish accent.

"It's not much, but it'll do to get some rest and reorganize," Neville sheepishly said as he cast protective wards around the perimeter of the room. Every one began dropping bags and finding spaces to curl up and sleep. Ron lit a fire in the hearth which provided some relief from the cool damp of March that drifted in through the numerous openings in the foundation.

I laid down in front of the fire on my back and failed to contain my loud crying. Several of the Order members slipped me glances of disgust which I returned to the best of my ability. The reality of the situation had me feeling desperate to go back into my coma and escape the hateful captors that were preventing me from going home. Images of the car accident replayed in my mind over and over as I grasped at any concept of what had been my life before the obliviation.

I was filled with resentment that they had decided for me that I didn't need to remember anything. I wanted to know what my experiences had been with Malfoy, even if they were filled with torment and horror. The gap of the years that were missing had left me with a bizarre, burning pain. In my mind I was seventeen, but in reality I was nineteen. My Parisian accent had softened somehow into a far more acceptable English translation, and my body had changed. I was no longer as athletic and capable, more or less an emaciated version of my former self.

Why would Malfoy try to kill me by driving a supercar off of a cliff? I pondered. The Order members had not told me many details of that day leaving me with multitudes of questions. If he had been so obsessed with me as they suggested than wouldn't he want to keep me alive to continue to make use of me? I closed my eyes and revisited the straggling memory over and over. The beautiful beige car interior, the smell of pine, a loud engine changing gears. A hand covered in rings rapidly shifting the gear exchange next to me. Blue flames in my hands as the car sank and extinguished them.

Then my mind drifted back to the day before when I had first met him at Fort Maunsell. It was dangerous just how physically attractive he was. I thought of his face on the catwalk, the icy blue of his eyes roaming over my body. He didn't seem like the type of boy I would even refuse to be intimate with, and so many questions lined up in my mind about what had actually happened between us. The prize of Slytherin, Pansy had said. Unfortunately, he evidently had a terrible personality that put his appearance to waste. 

There on the hard, filthy floorboards of the neglected cottage I drifted to sleep in an old nightgown, with bloodied feet and scars on my skin. My hair fanned out around my head. The fire crackled and stormy images of my husband danced in my dreams.


	4. ﴾ For Old Time's Sake ﴿

It was midday before anyone stirred within the cottage. Twelve wizards and witches were crammed into the tiny ground floor room, draped awkwardly across broken down furniture. I was the only unlucky one to have had to sleep directly on the floor, although at a minimum I'd been the closest to the fire all night. Ron had stepped on me repeatedly while refilling it, hardly muttering any apologies.

Ginny was kicking my shoulder to pull me away from my dreams, "Get up. You're going into the field with Neville to evaluate your skills away from the safehouse. It's going to be a long walk, so put these on." She dropped a pair of boots by my head, causing me to jump. She also dropped an extremely outdated army uniform from the second muggle world war which had obviously come from the sea fort. The stiff clothes were an awful shade between military green and sludge brown. The clothing would be very large and unsightly on my tiny frame, but I was grateful to have anything to change into besides the white gown, which was arguably not even white at all anymore. 

After I'd changed, Neville sent me a nod to follow him outside and passed me an apple for the walk. The day was damp and foggy with the promise of spring coming. The sounds of birds chirping flittered around the landscape and smells of sweet rot and awakening plants hung heavy in the air. Neville walked briskly on the dirt lane and I struggled to maintain my pace beside him in the boots which were too big on my feet. 

"So you really don't remember anything about your life at Hogwarts?" He asked suspiciously, and I met his brown eyes with contempt.

"Obviously not," I said in a clipped tone, "You idiots obliviated me, remember?"

"Harry said it was for your own good," he argued with me, looking defensive. The sound of our shoes sliding against pebbles and dust scraped between us.

I studied Neville's figure as he marched, his arms swinging with intent. He was still in the lousy Christmas sweater from the day before and his face was covered in dirt. 

"Harry Potter?" I asked in awe, suddenly stopping on the lane. Neville turned abruptly to watch me falter, "Harry Potter? Is dat who's leading dis group?"

Neville nodded looking sad and contemplative, "He's somewhere in London right now, trying to track Lucius Malfoy down. That's Malfoy's father, probably quite a bit worse than Draco. I haven't seen much of him, but I've heard he's nothing short of pure evil." 

I swallowed, shocked that I knew Harry Potter in person. He'd even saved me from my kidnapping. Slowly we began walking again as I planned my next question. The sun was no where to be seen, shrouded by a thick haze above our heads. The clouds looked angry and heavy, and any moment it was sure to rain. 

"So...Malfoy and I are married?" I prodded in a faint voice. Neville looked instantly ill at the topic.

"I suppose so..." he said wearily, "All I know is what Harry told me. Something about you being forced into it all because of a bequeathment mark on your neck. Apparently he-he..." I watched Neville choke on his words with searing embarrassment. 

"He what? What's a bequeathment mark?" I begged.

Neville looked pale, "Well as far I know, you got it from taking his, uh, virginity. You were bound by an unbreakable vow to marry him or you would die. Harry said he must've raped you for it and that you were too afraid to ask for help."

My heart was pounding with every word that he said. I was shocked. Had my parents known? Were they at my wedding? How could this all be allowed to occur so casually at a school like Hogwarts?

For the first time since I'd met him Neville shot me a sympathetic look, "He almost got away with it all too, but a few of us chased his car down before he could take you out of the country. He thought he could avoid being traced by not using magic to move you. He didn't know you'd survived the accident until yesterday."

I was silent for the rest of the walk, recounting everything I now knew. I had been in a coma for almost a year in the magic-reducing shackles, hidden from his knowledge. I had been obliviated because I'd been raped, forcibly married and kidnapped. My sense of self worth plummeted as I realized how pathetic the entire affair was when it was summarized. I'd always felt powerful, seductive, and commanding. How could I have allowed something so stupid to happen?

We had followed the farmer's lane for almost an hour before we stopped in front of a field and Neville walked through the ditch and into the muddy terrain. He peered through the fog around the distant edges of the meadow where trees clustered randomly. It was quiet and calm, no signs of other life save for a few birds in the sky. He seemed to be pleased enough with the isolation and he pulled out his wand, pointing them at the shackles. 

They clicked, and the metal fell apart on both arms. I gasped when he jammed his wand into my jugular suddenly, "No funny business, Madeleine. We need your help and I want to trust you. Can I?" His handsome face was now threatening as he leaned close towards me. I nodded pathetically, deciding to truly help and cooperate. 

"I want my revenge," I clarified in a squeaky voice, "I will 'elp you take 'im out."

"Good," Neville said and lowered the outstretched weapon. He put his hand into his pocket, producing another wand, "It's not yours, but it should be fine enough." I was briefly reminded that his wand was also borrowed, given that Malfoy had blasted his into the ocean.

I took it carefully, turning the sad wood over to analyze it. It was indeed not my wand. Mine had been a bright, pale wood with elegant swirls along the base. This one was nondescript and didn't seem to spark much connection in my fingers. 

"Hermione says you're a Veela," Neville interrupted my thought process. I hardly had time to wonder who Hermione was as he pressed on, "Well, partially. She says you were unlocking powers, like being able to produce blue flames or see visions of the future."

I must have looked frightfully puzzled because he sighed, looking defeated already. I had never shown any sort of special skills due to my ancestry, apart from being able to charm boys quite well. 

"I don' know..." I began to surmise, feeling useless already, "I 'ave never done any of dat. At least, not dat I would recall."

The first inklings of rain had begun to sprinkle down on our bodies. Now that I was in proper clothing I was grateful for the cooling and cleansing effect that it was providing on my hair. The closest thing to a shower that I'd had since waking up from the coma was the boat ride to shore the night before.

He stepped back, twisting the wand in his hands around restlessly, "I'm just gonna let you try to conjure something. Let me know if you need anything. We shouldn't leave you out of the shackles for too long in case Malfoy shows up again."

I pressed my lips together feeling at a complete loss, standing there in a bulky military uniform like an underfed soldier. I wasn't entirely sure what they expected me to do. The idea that I'd been developing odd powers before gave me some semblance of hope that I could renew my confidence but I had no idea where to start. 

I held my hands out in front of me, feeling burning indignation as Neville stole expectant glances at me. He was pacing around a few yards away from me, his eyes flickering around the perimeters of the field as though expecting Malfoy to appear at any moment. 

Nothing conjured in my hands. I bored my eyes into them as though that would improve the circumstances. I could feel my magic buzzing in my veins again like gentle electric currents, but nothing more than usual. 

After at least twenty minutes had passed Neville shook his head, "You don't remember how to do it."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Great observation."

There was a long pause between us, and then I cried loudly as the crest on my neck burnt me again. When he saw my hand shoot to my neck Neville paled vividly. He rushed to my side and fumbled with the shackles. He'd managed to get one on when it was verified that he was too late. 

The familiar crack of lightning erupted around us as Malfoy appeared once again, looking like a prince of darkness. I dropped the wand from my hand in immediate terror. There was a large swirl of black smoke several meters away in the field where he'd just apparated to. His robes waved behind him as he abruptly approached us.

Neville held his wand up to cast but Malfoy beat him to it, "Avada Kedavra!" He shouted the killing spell without hesitation, and Neville dropped to the mud with lifeless eyes before me. The rain did little to mask my sobs of horror. 

I stepped back several feet and clamped a hand to my mouth in disbelief. I had never witnessed murder before and was completely unprepared for how sudden it had occurred. Malfoy reached my trembling body and he shot his hand out to twist it in the collar of the ridiculous military uniform, ripping my face towards his, "Don't fight with me." He commanded it menacingly and I blanched as his eyes ripped into mine. Without the protective ward of Fort Maunsell he would be able to capture me again.

The world around us twisted and distorted, and I fell to my knees to vomit as we reappeared somewhere entirely different. It was no longer raining but the same cold fog hovered in the new landscape as well. I shook on my hands against the stony gravel below me.

His dress shoes were before my eyes as he glared down at the display of sickness, "Get up. Now."

When I didn't make any effort to stand his fingers dug into the back of my hair and he forced me up. I shrieked from the cruel gesture and blinked through tears up at a large set of cast-iron gates. 

We were at some kind of god awful castle. It loomed at the end of a long gravel pathway that had tall hedges on either side. The building stood with an impressive aura of terror, black walls that rose several stories into the sky did very little to provide any sense of invitation. 

He pushed me forward down the pathway, his fingers on my spine, only pausing long enough to wandlessly cast open the double doors. I was escorted roughly up four floors of cold stone stairs, catching glimpses of portraits, shields and suits of armor, odd paintings of landscapes... The house and it's décor seemed ancient, as though it had not been redecorated since the Victorian era.

He threw me into a room and slammed the door behind us. I choked through tears from where I had fallen to the carpet, having been too weak to remain standing from the push inwards. The room was cave-like and dark, and even though it was the middle of the day I squinted desperately to make out the furniture around me. 

He walked to where several candles were mounted to the walls and lit them. I struggled to breath calmly, fully expecting him to take no hesitation with punishing me. He walked over to me and I cowered below him. He knelt, placing his hand on his knee to scrutinize me. His eyes were incredibly blue, bright and piercing. Judgement seeped across his gorgeous features, "You're absolutely putrid, what have they been doing to you? You will shower before I come back." His voice was deep and aristocratic, and I sensed it was not a request in any way. It was an order.

My eyes slid down to the filthy military uniform and my matted hair. He snorted, and flicked at the material near my jaw. "What is this muggle shit? Potter trying to make a soldier out of my wife?" 

"I don' know anything about 'arry Potter," I defended.

I whimpered in fear as his eyes suddenly darkened, "Yes you do, don't lie to me. Tell me Madeleine; all this time you've been with those peasants, have you been unfaithful to me?" My eyes met his at the sudden confrontation and I felt my bottom lip trembling slightly. 

I wouldn't remember even if I had been, but what he did next implied that I looked guilty in my silence. He shocked me by slapping me with an open hand and a horrible burning pain blossomed on my cheek. He left me no time to react, wrenching my chin up to look into his eyes. His nose was practically touching mine, "I won't ask you again. Have you fucked someone else? Potter perhaps? Think you can hide your infidelity?" His breath was in my face, hot and combative. His voice shook only slightly, with what seemed like genuine fear of the notion.

I considered my options, and decided to go with honesty out of the possibility that he would invade my mind. I had no idea what he was capable of, and making him any more angry was probably not a good idea. "I-I don't know," I whispered, "I was obliviated."

His face twisted into an arrogant sneer, "Hmm. Convenient. I suppose that's what your answer will also be regarding why you ran away and hid with them for a year." I could tell he thought I was lying about something, or had somehow betrayed him, but I was still trying to piece together the whole picture with minute details from both sides.

"It is de truth!" I barked up at him, "I don' remember you, I don' remember 'arry Potter. I can't tell you anything unless you want to know about my life two years ago."

He stood and baulked at the suggestion, "Two fucking years? He took two years from you? When did this happen, literally now?"

I shook my head in equal disbelief of the statement as my tears dried on my cheeks, speaking in a far away voice, "I woke up yesterday, from a coma. I only remember France from before..." It was quiet as his hand hovered over his mouth, his eyes shut hard. Obviously the prospect of my mind being entirely wiped of him was not a pleasant one.

My hand grazed my burning cheek as I looked down at the fibers of the silvery carpet, waiting for him to reply. I heard him sigh deeply. His voice was low and dark when he spoke again, and I noticed he was finding it hard to look directly at me, "Well, that's unfortunate. It's going to make tonight's responsibilities a lot more uncomfortable. For both of us."

I gaped up at him, almost too afraid to ask. "What responsibilities?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You have duties as my wife and you would do well to remember them. My father will not accept us failing to produce an heir, and trust me when I say this - you do not want to enrage him."

I banged my fist into the carpet, "You would not. I will not." My voice shook unsteadily as I tried to appear tough.

He frowned down at me and I saw a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, "You can make it worse for us both or you can behave. Neither of us have a choice in the matter. I'll have alcohol sent up here for you to calm your nerves, for old time's sake. Just don't...black out."

With that he was gone out the door and I sat heaving in air, dreading the coming evening. Oddly, I felt myself wishing I was back in the care of the Order. Even though they hadn't been much kinder to me they at least had not threatened me the way he just had. It didn't matter that he was literally gorgeous, the fact that he was giving me no choice petrified me. I slowly lowered myself onto the silver carpet, staring up at the ceiling with morbid dread and feeling hot tears pooling in my ears.


	5. ﴾ Things Have Changed ﴿

I laid on the carpet for so long that I fell asleep there. I was completely defeated, and the sleep provided some escape from the horrible world I had woken up to once again. 

When my eyes fluttered open it was due to being nudged by a grisly house elf. The small figure was bruised badly in various regions of his body and his fingers were heavily bandaged. He was poking a sharp toe nail into my side looking absolutely unimpressed, "Master has made it clear Mrs. Malfoy is to bathe now."

I rolled my stiff eyes and pushed up onto my knees, "I am not Mrs. Malfoy."

The house elf narrowed it's eyes further, "Kreacher remembers Mrs. Malfoy. Such a difficult wife for the master, always causing trouble."

He snapped his fingers and a large bottle of fire whiskey appeared in his hand, "The master has requested Kreacher presents the missus with this."

I wearily took it from him. It was a very high quality brand, and based on this and the pedigree of everything else around Malfoy I gathered that money was no obstacle for him. At the very least if I had to participate in intimacy with a vicious Death Eater he'd had the decency to consider my comfort.

The grouchy elf left the room with a pop and I uncorked the bottle to sniff at the foul liquor. I inhaled sharply, aware that it wouldn't take much at all for me to get hammered. I was weak, and I hadn't eaten much in the past two days. I had to drink only enough for a moderate buzz so that my mind was still cognizant when he returned. I chugged a large gulp and fought the urge to hurl the bitter liquid back up. I swallowed slowly, doing my best to take in as much as possible before wobbling to my feet. 

I would have to shower or else risk being painfully reprimanded. I floated around the room, wincing from the still serious pain in my bones. 

Malfoy had said for old time's sake. Had I become some form of a raging alcoholic?

I located the bathroom by it being the only other doorway in the vast room. There was an enormous claw foot tub in the center of the dark green room. I drew a bath and started undressing with a creeping feeling shooting down my spine. The room was filled with his personal possessions and I felt uncomfortable with his confident vulnerability. 

I was lowering my naked body into the bubbles, trying to avoid looking at the white scars that dotted my limbs, when I finally began to feel my nerves building despite the few shots I'd had. Very shortly the extremely handsome boy would be back and whether or not my body would be a disappointment to him began to loom in my mind. I pulled bubbles up around my chest so that I wouldn't scour myself with judgmental thoughts as I imagined his naked body in return. He seemed to be completely flawless and my heart was now pounding against my chest at the thought of him touching me, seeing me. Another part of me acknowledged a hidden desire buried within that anticipation.

The bath was not very long as a result. I was completely restless by the time I stepped out, finally clean. My bones no longer ached, and I chugged another small shot of the liquor hoping to keep the high climbing. It was then that I noticed my reflection for the first time since the accident. 

The large mirror reflected back at me a gorgeous girl, and my heart rested more easily knowing that the Order members had clearly focused a lot on mending my face. I looked almost identical to how I recalled being before, only slightly older and with a thin scar running along my jawline. My blond hair was long and wavy. My golden eyes stared back at me, and I gasped at how much weight I had lost - my chin now pointed and my features jutting. I wrapped a towel around myself and left the bathroom.

When I had passed through the doorway I noticed that I was no longer alone in his bedroom. He stood by the windows in a sharp black suit, swirling around a dark liquid in a crystal glass. The entire wall was one massive sheet of glass, held together by a matrix of wooden panes. The moon light was streaming in from outside, illuminating his features. 

I adjusted the towel to cover myself more appropriately as his eyes slid down my legs, "I see Potter has done a despicable job of patching you up. I'll have a professional come next week to make improvements." He sipped at what I assumed to be whiskey, never breaking eye contact with me. 

He looked perfect, standing there in his form fitting suit. His hand was in his pocket, perhaps over his wand in case I gave him trouble. My heart began fluttering from the intoxication of the liquid I'd consumed earlier. I couldn't explain the aching lust that was beginning to soar in his company and I averted my eyes, taking small steps backwards. 

He misjudged my embarrassed stumbling as an attempt to run and hide. I felt the whoosh of the bathroom door shut behind me as he wandlessly commanded it, "You won't be going back in there to hide, Madeleine. My father won't hesitate to torture you if he deems you unworthy of your place in this family. We have to do this, do you understand me?" He looked remorseful for just a moment before his eyes wandered away. It was painfully awkward as I attempted to read his expression. 

I swallowed hard, unsure of what he wanted me to say. I had to keep reminding myself that he was a dangerous stranger while I gently swayed on the spot. "We could at least wait until after our first date," I joked without sincerity, hiccupping into my elbow. My hand shot out to steady myself on the bed post as he stepped towards me.

"I've been down that road with you," He said sounding exhausted, placing the glass on a desk. "It's a miracle I survived with my wits in tact after I thought you'd died. Forgive me if we have to skip the pleasantries of courting this time; I simply can't afford the pain."

Was he suggesting that we had dated in any way before that could be considered civil? He was crossing the room now, eyes focusing on me seriously. I fell backwards a few paces, tripping onto the bed moronically as my heart rate was suddenly deafening in my ears.

I shook as he approached me, looming tall over the bed. He smirked at my obvious nervousness, "Relax. Of all the things Potter has poisoned your mind with, I'm not going to rape you. I'd take zero pleasure in forcing you."

He sat next to me on the comforter, loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, lightly brushing his straight platinum hair. Then he had his jacket off. It was beyond aggravating that I couldn't stop musing about his beauty. I sat next to him drinking in his features intensely. 

He noticed my attention and stared down at me with hooded light blue eyes, looking mildly drunk himself. "I said relax. I'll let you take the lead. I'm not exactly comfortable with this either. We only have to do this until you're pregnant, and then my father will have no choice but to leave you alone." He paused for a second as if considering something and I could tell by his face that he wasn't in the mood either. 

"I need to know that you understand. It's for your safety. I'm not some.." he trailed off bouncing his elbows on his knees. I heard him curse fucking Potter under his breath while he pushed his hair back. I wasn't sure if I should bother clarifying to him that Harry Potter hadn't said one thing to me in person. 

I stammered, unsure of why he kept pointing out that his father would harm me unless we produced a child and so immediately, "What does 'e want? Why so quickly?"

Draco snapped his head to me, "He wants you kept in line. Your absence for an entire year has not gone unnoticed. You either provide an heir in a timely manner or he'll make sure you're put to other uses." The sentence came out as a low growl and I leaned away from him, not wanting to know what the implication of other uses was.

"Fine, I'm fine to do dis wit' you," was all I could muster, trying to find the courage to speak. It really wouldn't be so bad to hook up with such a handsome boy, even if he was a huge prick. His vision seared into mine as though he still wasn't sure I understood the gravity of the situation.

I watched as he suddenly crossed the room. His dress shirt was untucked now and his hair messy. He pulled out a shiny vial from his desk drawer. He shot it back and inhaled sharply, his eyes watering as he put it down on the mahogany wood of the desk. Wincing he returned to me and I noticed that his blue eyes were disappearing behind dilating pupils.

"I want to face away from you," I whispered shyly, my fingers tangling in the towel over my body. I had thought about it while in the bath, coming to the conclusion that not facing him wouldn't be as personal. 

He looked momentarily amused, "What an interesting request. I was hoping you wouldn't turn away though. Alternatively, I wish to see your expressions." He gazed down at me again, brushing my chin with his fingers. I was breathing fast and my lips were parted, the heat between my legs betraying my better senses. "It will make me feel better if you'll consider it," he stated.

I watched as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, wondering why he needed to undress fully or have me face him traditionally if this was simply for the sake of producing an heir. Although he had been rough with the way he'd handled me there was notable sensitivity within him. I was beginning to calm down when the rudeness returned in full force.

"Entertain me, Madeleine. You really don't remember how much you used to throw yourself at me savagely?" He queried as if it was a casual conversation at a coffee shop. His shirt was off now, and my eyes ran over his hard, fit body. He laughed at my keen stare, "Then you spent months livid with me for the bequeathment mark that you practically begged for."

I was having trouble even listening to what he was suggesting while he unbuckled his belt and I fought myself not to reach out and touch him. My mind waved back and forth at the words that he had just said, "Sounds like something I would do. But...you obviously were not very forthcoming about de outcome, were you?" My words were breathy and seductive, matching my heart rate. He was probably a practiced liar. yet, some part of me was hopeful that it truly had been my own stupid choice to chase after him in the first place. 

He frowned a smile, now looking flush and flirty, "Perhaps not. Perhaps that was a good strategy. I wanted you and I always get what I want." He was in his black boxers now, pushing me onto the bed by carefully gripping my neck.

I shut my eyes as I felt his other hand running up the inside of my thigh, dangerously close to my wet, throbbing opening, "You just drugged yourself, didn't you?" I asked feebly, trying to maintain the last shred of my dignity. He released his hold on my throat when I was flat on my back. I clung to the towel, already knowing that I would cave to him. He smelled like smoke and pine and his skin was warm and silky against mine as he laid beside me.

"Don't take it personally," he answered in irritation. I knit my eyebrows together, too embarrassed to look at him or admit that our physical chemistry was clearly natural for me. His hand had stopped moving upwards and I laid there, waiting for some kind of invasive procedure to begin. When he did nothing else my eyes opened again in confusion. 

He was leaning over me, our faces very close. His hair was hanging down onto my forehead and he was searching my eyes. There was another flicker of burning desire buried deep within his blue orbs and I sent him a puzzled look. Our breaths mingled as he waited patiently, lightly squeezing my thigh in his fingers. He inhaled sharply, arguably uncomfortable with the forced situation, "Can I touch you?" 

I looked into his wicked eyes and my hand drifted down to his, pulling his up between my legs. He bit his lip, relief flooding over him unmasked. His fingers slowly began pumping inside of me as he rubbed at my clit with confidence and intricacy. I moaned loudly in appreciation, desperate for more. A landslide had been unleashed. My hands shot to his boxers, ripping them down with haste. The black towel around my body unraveled with the motion.

He froze as he took in my naked body before him, his mouth parted slightly. I instinctively leaned towards his face to kiss him so that he would stop staring, pulling him by his neck. His lips were soft and warm, his tongue tasted like smoke. The tension between us thickened as I reached down to stroke him with my free hand. He let the embrace linger for a minute as he grew rock hard in my fingers, moaning against my lips. Then he dropped away with a snarl, "We shouldn't kiss. It's too much."

My face felt white hot immediately from the rejection. He didn't seem phased by my noticeable disappointment, just rolled on top of me and slipped a hand behind my back, arching me towards him. "Are you ready?" He asked, searching my face with ragged breathing. I could feel his hardness pressing against my inner leg and could see the desperate lust in his wandering eyes. I nodded felt him push into me, slowly for only a second, and then with aggression. The friction was painful at first as he pounded me hard and mercilessly. He never broke eye contact, watching my expressions evolve through a symphony of reactions. I was crying out loudly and he claimed me silently, biting his lip again.

He leaned forward and sucked at my neck. It was some of the roughest sex I'd ever had but it was good, so good. He was impressively sized and my body was stretching to accommodate his penetration. His face moved back up to mine and for a second his lips grazed mine by accident. He kissed me and I felt his pace falter and slow to a sensual grind, felt his energy soften as our tongues danced erotically. Then he whispered swear words and started pulling away, pulling out of me. I thought vaguely that he would dress and leave the room, but instead he grabbed me by my wrist and wrenched me over onto my stomach, my face buried sideways in the pillow.

His fingers pushed down on the base of my spine as he whispered in my ear, "Looks like you get it your way then." He took a moment to spread my legs wider with his knee and then I felt him shoving into me again. He was gasping now and cursing more consistently. I could feel the buzzing in my abdomen growing dangerously as he dug deeper at a new angle. He whispered my name in awe, just barely loud enough to hear and before I knew it I was tightening around him, cumming without any control. He released with me, filling me up and panting beside my ear.

I laid in the bed, not quite sure how to feel about what had just happened. It had been an awful day. I had woken up sleeping on the floor of an abandoned cottage, witnessed a murder, gotten kidnapped again, and then decided to sleep with my Death Eater captor willingly. 

He was off of the bed blowing out candles, back around the room in his boxers. My eyes slid to his figure; he was unbelievably fit. He stood in front of the wall of windows, shaking out his long blond hair. I had no clothing of my own so I pawed at his dress shirt, pulling it against my body sheepishly as I sat up. 

"I don' 'ave a wand, so I can't clean up de-" I was abruptly cut off by him.

"I've told you. There will be no scourgifying anything. You are to produce an heir now that you have been confirmed as alive. My family will accept nothing less." He turned to face me and scowled when he noticed that I was clinging to his shirt. He went over to the wardrobe and grabbed a large black hoodie, tossing it to me, "I will set you up with clothing going forward. Wear this for tonight."

I pulled the sweater over my head and noted that it smelled like him and hung low past my thighs like a bizarre dress. It was an odd scene. Two days ago I woke up to find out I had a Death Eater husband, and now I was sitting there on his bed wearing his hoodie like a girlfriend. He rolled his eyes sensing what I was thinking.

"Where is my room?" I asked nervously as I stood, wobbling, trying to ignore the feeling of his fluids running down my legs.

He snorted in the moonlight, making his way back to the bed, "This is your room. You will sleep with me every night like a proper wife, unless you anger me in which case I will send you to the dungeons to sleep with the skeletons." He pushed me onto the bed with one hand as he passed me going to the other side, laughing lightly at the ease of the motion. 

I laid on the top of the covers as he got underneath them. He sighed when he realized that I wasn't underneath and turned over to face me. I saw his eyes flicker in the darkness, "Get under. Don't be dramatic."

I stuck my nose in the air to be difficult, "Non." Tears were brimming again in my eyes as I thought about how pathetically I'd let him claim my body. I was clearly already repeating history and digging myself into a second grave. He was a murderer and a criminal.

His hand slammed down on the pillow next to my face, "Get under the covers, now. You'll freeze." My eyes wandered to his in the darkness. His pointy nose was flaring and he looked cancerous. He wasn't wrong - the Manor was almost subzero. It was an uninviting temperature for a home to say in the least.

I reluctantly dug myself into the obsidian covers and used the sleeve of the hoodie to wipe at my eyes. My crying was picking up volume and speed and he glared at me with an empty expression, "Will you shut up? Such an unbecoming sound for a young woman." 

I firmly closed my eyes, "Will you 'old me so I can go to sleep?" Any affection, even if false, would lull me to sleep at least.

"Absolutely not," he spat. 

I clamped my hand down on my mouth to try and muffle the hysterical crying with no avail. He growled and rubbed at his face and I braced for him to hit me. I was surprised when after about another five minutes his arm started to dig underneath my neck. He tugged me into his chest begrudgingly, his arm draped around my neck and shoulders. His body was stiff and displeased by the contact, his face pointed away from mine as I nuzzled into his bare neck and wrapped my arm around his tight abs. My tears gradually faded away and I could hear his impatient breaths coming out sharp. 

"Don't let this confuse you," he hoarsely whispered in the darkness, "I won't feel sorry for you if you catch feelings for me. It can't be like it was before."

I could feel my eyelashes batting against his throat as I blinked, considering his desperate need to clarify the information to me. As anyone would expect, I didn't think he would care about me simply because I'd forced him to cuddle. He'd already made it abundantly clear that I had only one purpose, and that was to service him with an heir.

"Tell me about us...before," I asked in a dainty voice, breathing on his neck. "Why can't it be like dat?"

He coughed to clear his throat, "No. It's not necessary."

I pressed my nose into his skin, sighing from the peaceful physical contact. The bed was warm and his body was unbelievable. I ran my fingers over his chest and abs, greedily memorizing his physique. He ignored the groping but softened a little, and I could feel his fingers trailing along my shoulder instinctively.

"Did we love each other? Did I hurt you?" I asked without thinking.

"No. Go to bed," he replied bluntly. His fingers on my shoulder stopped moving and he flattened his hand against my skin again. 

"You're a murderer. I suppose I wouldn't 'ave loved someone like you," I rudely mused aloud, feeling delirious from the day and the whiskey. I thought about Neville's blank eyes as he stared up from where he'd dropped to death before me, face half covered in mud. I quickly banished the imagery hoping to prevent myself from crying again. 

He exhaled sharply, clearly a nerve had been hit, "Not back then, I wasn't. Things have changed. I doubt you could even begin to understand what I have to do for this family."

"Why 'ave dey changed?" I asked pointlessly. They had changed, that's all that mattered. Whatever he'd done now was irreversible, and I couldn't even remember our previous relationship.

"Madeleine, if you don't be quiet I'll put you in the dungeons. Then you'll understand just how much they've changed," he warned, sounding exhausted. His breath blew my hair across my face as he spoke, "You clearly haven't changed. All you do is push me to the brink of fury with foolish questions."

I gave in and buried my face against him, allowing myself to slip away into a much needed deep sleep. As alarming as the situation was, it was quite nice to be in clean clothing and in a real bed.


	6. ﴾ Don't Be Idiotic ﴿

It was the middle of the night and I woke sweating from a bad dream. It had involved watching Neville die again. My eyes shot open and I took in the wall of windows in Malfoy's room. Slowly it dawned on me that the kidnapping had been real. I felt nauseous from the impending hang over which had blossomed into being while I'd been asleep. 

I was on my side and strong, bare arms were wrapped around my waist. Malfoy's face was in my hair and I could feel his warm breath on my neck. I tried to ignore the pressure of his member against my butt cheek. If he had intended not to cuddle with me he clearly had terrible self control. He would've had the opportunity to escape my clutches at any point during the night once I'd fallen asleep. The bed was massive and spacious; he had no excuse to be holding me.

I turned my head slowly to glance back at him and he sighed, lifting his face to look down at mine with bleary eyes, "You're sweaty. Why?" He asked not moving his body off of mine. I was surprised by how light of a sleeper he was. 

"Nightmares..." I whispered.

He snarled, "Not that crap again. Consider yourself lucky that you didn't wake me up with screaming." I laid my head back down and looked out the wall of windows before me. The moon sat wide in the sky, the stars hanging like bright pin points in the universe beyond. The fact that his arms were around me began to burn in the air between us, - undeniable, stimulating, and offending his attempt to act distant. It was as though we could sense that both of our minds were racing, but we were frozen from the humility of it.

I knit my eyebrows together as his lips suddenly dragged along my neck lustily, as faint as a tickle. His hair hung down into my face. "Did I 'ave a problem with dem before?" my voice came out like a peep.

"Yes. Perhaps this time you will refrain from insulting my sleep with your dramatics," he whispered against my ear. I shuddered from the feeling of his breath on my skin and pursed my lips together to prevent myself from pointing out that controlling nightmares was basically impossible.

His finger tips were beginning to squeeze my ribs where his arms ended around my frame. I could tell that he was turned on and trying to fight it, and my cheeks flushed with the confirmed flattery that he was in fact naturally attracted to me. It was indisputable in the way he was breathing and becoming tense.

I opened my mouth and then closed it several times, feeling too petrified to speak. I wanted to urge him on; my own desires rising to the surface. But I knew that he was complex, and cruel, and a murderer. He was also very resentful regarding our current situation and my lack of memories. The right thing to do was a vague concept, and I was struggling to decipher it.

His breath was hot on my jaw line as his lips hovered there. He was fighting his urges so extraordinarily, and I laid there with wide eyes and a pounding heart, waiting for him to make up his mind. Then it occurred to me that maybe he was waiting for the same.

In a terrifying and brave decision, I gradually turned my head to face him and our lips hovered on each others, wet, touching only slightly. He stared at me as my face nudged forward and pushed our lips together in an embrace. I watched as his eyes shut, and his fingers ran up to my jaw, pulling my face into his hungrily.

The kiss was short lived though as he pulled away from me exhaling in annoyance, "I told you, no kissing," he hissed bitterly. "We need to make more of an effort to avoid that."

"Why? It turns me on," I whined. 

He hung his head back, clearly frustrated, "You always do this to me. You don't listen and you push me into situations that I don't want."

I was suddenly angry, waving my arm across the room, "What would you call dis? You 'ave kidnapped me. And dat statement means nothing to me because I don' remember you at all."

The words bit through the air without grace. He was fuming now, and I could see his eyes glittering over my face in the darkness. 

"If I kiss you, you will fall in love. I happen to remember you, and there is no doubt in my mind that you will go there." His expression was now serious. 

"I am not a child, I can 'andle kissing," I retorted. I turned my body over and ran my arms up around his neck to pull him towards me.

He laughed against my lips, "No, I'm serious. I don't trust you." He was yanking at my hands but I continued to coil around him like a viper drawing him in closer. My leg came up over his and I ground against him. His lips were sweet and fluffy and I felt his tongue move into my mouth savagely in defeat. 

I climbed on top of him and pushed him back into the bed by his chest. I was distinctly reminded that I had on no underwear when I could feel him between my legs, hard and desperate as I kissed him passionately. His hand shoved impatiently between us and I felt him pull his cock out of his black boxers, lining it up against my entrance. I would only have to lower myself slightly and he would be inside of me.

"If you want it, take it," he whispered on my lips as he stared up at me with determination. Once again, he had given me the choice and my mind registered this as noteworthy, considering other people had a completely different idea about his practices.

I pushed my lips on his again as I lowered myself onto him, groaning from the pleasure. I kissed him slowly and passionately. His light moans muffled on my lips as I rode him sensually. 

Until he evidently deemed it too love-like. His hand shot up to my hair and tugged my head back hard as his hips jutted up assertively. The tone of the interaction changed to savage again as he took over control once more. 

"Fuck, I've missed your body," he said in a breathy voice. I felt his hand slap my ass hard and his other hand continued to rip my hair backwards. I was still wearing the hoodie but it didn't seem to upset him. I moaned loudly from how far he was pushing into me and with very little elegance. If this was what our sex had been like before than it was starting to make sense why I'd let things go on and get out of control.

I was cumming when he pulled my head back down to his, shoving our foreheads together, "You want to kiss me, hmm?" His lips were crushing mine then and his hot breath was on my face. The kiss was painful and bruising, his pounding rapid and violent. I felt him burst inside of me as he continued to harshly kiss me, my lips now buzzing painfully. His movements slowed gradually and I felt his lips pull away from mine. "Good girl," he mocked me as I rotated off of him and I balled up my first and hit him square in the chest.

"I 'ave needs too, et es not for your pleasure et es for my own." I felt silly saying the words, knowing I was clearly the weak one between us. I was actively allowing him to burst in me, raw, and I would be pregnant in no time if I wasn't careful.

He snorted at my glare looking perfectly gorgeous in the moonlight, "Not even making me work for it. Excellent." He winked at me and shook out his hair, "Come here then, seems like the cuddling is to my advantage." I had a feeling the invitation wasn't even real, just meant to be facetious.

"You're sick," I quipped, turning my back to him. He laughed at me gently in the darkness before I felt him turn his back to me as well.

۞۞۞۞۞

The next day I awoke alone in Malfoy's bed. My lips were swollen slightly and there was pain between my legs. I was immediately flooded with guilt and dread at what I had allowed to occur the night before. He had murdered another person right in front of me, and then I'd gone and let him have sex with me. Twice. 

I was taken aback when I noticed that there was a brand new armoire in the corner. It was dignified and exquisite, a dusty blue color with gold ornamentation around the edges in little swirls. How he'd managed to get it into the room without waking me was a complete mystery, although I had probably been passed out cold after having had such a long day prior. 

The armoire stuck out in the raven colored room like a sore thumb. The thoughtfulness of choosing my favorite color struck me as an oddity. I went over to it feeling silly that I had no underwear on, glancing around the room for paintings that might be prying. 

The armoire was filled with a range of clothing, but mainly black dresses that I would never have chosen for myself. Nevertheless I took the hint and plucked out a black bouffont dress that was shaped like an umbrella. It reminded me of something I had once worn to a funeral, but it was at least still stylish. 

I was starving and my body reminded me of it with loud growls, but my priorities were to attain a new wand and find a means to escape. I went to the window and checked for any panes that would open for me to slip through. Nothing was willing to budge, and the same condition was in the bathroom. The fireplace had no floo powder next to it either. I stomped my foot in aggravation, realizing that the Malfoy boy was smarter than I gave him credit for.

I paused my search around the room to watch a floating miniature planet at the desk rotate slowly in place, before deciding to leave the room. I opened the doorway to his bedroom with great trepidation. The house was echoing with dull creaks and the sound of wind gusting. It was raining again outside and the manor was very cold. 

I shivered as I plucked up the courage to leave the safety of Draco's room, refusing to name it my own as he had suggested. The hallways were empty stone tunnels. I made my way down the flights of stairs wearily. My mind drifted back to the conversation I'd had with Neville the day before, right before he'd died at the hands of Malfoy. 

"He's somewhere in London right now, trying to track Lucius Malfoy down. That's Malfoy's father, probably quite a bit worse than Draco even. I haven't seen much of him, but I've heard he's real evil." 

Lucius Malfoy was in London, and I sighed a breath of relief with the expectation that I had some time yet to avoid meeting him. He obviously had a problem with me so vulgar that he would force his own son to impregnate me unnaturally by threatening to take the opportunity to punish me as an alternative. 

The house was massive and I pondered how many Malfoy's there were that I might encounter while wandering about. I had reached the second floor when I was given a clue on the topic.

A large family tree was blooming on the wall, spanning at least fifteen feet high. My eyes trailed around the many names, catching on their wavering images and nasty expressions. They all had white blond hair, save for a few of the women. Genetically it was absurd. The blond gene was a well-known recessive trait, how they had managed to consistently produce heirs with the same platinum locks was beyond me.

I reached the far corner of the tree and recognized the name Lucius next to a pretty woman named Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy sat looking exacting and regal, his hair was long past his shoulders. He appeared freakishly similar to Draco in many ways. Below them Draco's picture shimmered with a wicked grin, and next to him, me. Madelyn Malfoy was written below my sullen face in swirling text, and I reached out tiny fingers to drag them across her sad, broken-hearted appearance in empathy.

"I thought I would find you here," I heard Malfoy's voice drifting down the hallway. He approached me in another dark suit, his hands jammed into the tight pockets as his eyes ran over my dress with approval. "You always come here. Funny. It seems to depress you, seeing your name up there."

I leaned against the stone banister feeling fatigued by his presence already, "Don' be idiotic. You know why I don' like it."

He shrugged, frowning slightly at the wall, "At first when I thought you had died, I came here every day to watch her face. See if it changed. She just looked...blank all of sudden, but there were some days where she cried quite profanely, and I wondered if you were still out there somehow." I watched as he twitched his nose slightly and then the hard mask returned to his face. 

"So, how is your grand escape plan going?" he changed the topic, his icy blue eyes fell across my face knowingly and a smirk danced on his lips.

I crossed my arms. "I thought I would begin after breakfast," I answered him sarcastically. 

He snorted. "You can come and go as you please, as long as you are back here every night," he said in a milky voice as though reading a grocery list instead of discussing my freedom. "If you aren't, I'll hunt you down myself, and there are worse things that I could do to you than send you down to the dungeons." His eyes glinted with the mysterious threat. 

I stared at him, my mouth had dropped open in shock that he was that confident in his abilities to hunt me. I was actually allowed to leave the property, which would present an excellent opportunity to devise a strategy to deal with him. 

He grinned at me, "Let's get the rules straight. Dress appropriately, as you have done today. You will be back before nine every single night. If you do happen to go outside don't miss this deadline. And don't try to fucking run away. I am a busy person and I would prefer to not waste my existence chasing you down. You and I will do our best to keep a regular routine at night. The quicker you are pregnant, the less livid my father will be with either of us...or so I am told."

He stepped forward and ran his fingers through my hair, tucking some of it behind my ear. He spoke in a softer voice now, "And, if you're really obedient, I might even cuddle you at night...as you are so fond of." His face was cruel and teasing, and I ripped out of his grip in a huff. He rubbed at his eyes with his palms, visibly laughing at me.

"I hate you," I muttered, nothing better to say to the ridiculous set of rules. Did he just see me as some house wife that was allowed to go out for walks and collect flowers, talk to the townsfolk about insipid topics, get pregnant? I was far more powerful than that and I would be using my time well. Perhaps he didn't care where I went given that the mark would always give my coordinates away. It was that, or I would be forced to silence my magic in order to hide from him, but even then he would eventually find me and it would be shocking if he didn't just murder me right then and there.

He followed me down the large double sided staircase as I ran towards the first floor, holding my long dress up with both hands. "Never heard that one before," he quipped sarcastically.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs to swivel and face him, and poked at his chest. My long blond waves swirled around my face with the blunt motion, "Why are you following me, den? I thought I was allowed my freedom."

He laughed at me again, clearly fighting to keep a straight face at my show of bravery, "So be it. Just don't get lost." A tremendous blast of black smoke engulfed me suddenly as he disappeared, and my energy suddenly felt completely drained. I had been too close and inhaled toxic Death Eater fumes that left me choking. The overwhelming sadness and rage that it left me with for minutes had me clutching at the staircase banister and then slowly wandering the bottom floor in a daze.

When my focus had cleared again I set out to continue looking for wands or floo powder. I wasn't inherently strong enough to dissapparate without a wand, so being aloud to leave whenever I pleased was pedestrian at best. Every time I passed a window I took in the extremely rural landscape with dread. The property was gargantuan - for what seemed like an endless horizon there was rolling hills, forests, open meadows... It occurred to me that I could just start walking and see how far I could get before having to turn back. And even then, I wasn't particularly guaranteed to find any other establishments in a walkable vicinity. 

I had wandered through countless colossal rooms hours later with still no resolve. The Malfoy's evidently knew me quite well and had anticipated that I would wander relentlessly looking for methods to flee the property. Some doors were locked while others provided dull permission; I found three study rooms, multiple dining areas including one very dark and mammoth formal banquet space, living rooms, parlors, offices, a forgotten ballroom, and what seemed to be endless spare bedrooms. Each room was designed with an eccentric and ornate style, and many were seemingly forgotten altogether from the horrific levels of dust and rot within.

All this aside, the oddest part of my day was that no one else appeared to be inside the building with me. I hadn't even spotted one of the house elves when I finally got bored of the wandering and went to the front doors. 

Out on the porch I was immediately soaked by the torrential downpour. I didn't care; it wasn't as though Malfoy had left with me an umbrella or a wand. It was icy and chilling out on the grounds but I pushed forward through orchards, gardens, hedges, ponds... My entire body was trembling when I had reached back around to the twisted black gates. I stood looking desperately up at the metal that overshadowed my petite form. I tugged at the latches but it was tied up and locked, physically and magically, for obvious reasons. I kicked it furiously, feeling pathetic. The metal rung out a deep reverberating tone in the rain.

I was halfway up climbing over one of the sharply trimmed hedges immediately adjacent to the gates when a sweet voice interrupted me, "Ah, Madelyn. Dare I ask what it is you're doing to my hedges?"

With my hands still deep in the greenery I twisted my drenched head around to see that a woman in a black dress stood behind me within the property, clasping an umbrella with a gloved hand. She had long blond hair that coiled gracefully on one side of her frame. She was elegant, standing tall with a straight spine. Compared to her, I resembled an 18th century homeless woman. My legs and arms were covered in scratches and debris from climbing up the hedges and my clothing hung heavily on my body, soaked completely. 

I chewed on the edge of my lip hoping that no punishment would be dealt for acting like a fool. Her bright blue eyes gave her away as Malfoy's mother; she was far too old to be a sibling of any kind. Slowly I lowered myself and jumped off, slipping slightly on the gravel obnoxiously.

Her eyes wandered down my savage composure and messy appearance judgmentally, reminding me of her son, "So, here you are. Alive. What a miracle, surely."

I crossed my arms defensively across my body, trying to control the growing convulsions of my dropping body temperature. She stepped towards me with a refined motion until I was partially underneath the umbrella with her. She had an amused expression as she took in my scars and fearful disposition, "We don't leave the property unsecured, I'm sure you understand."

"Malfoy said-said I could leave," I whispered, my teeth clattering against each other, mimicking the sound of rolling dice. 

Her hand reached out and closed around my wrist, slowly guiding me back towards the manor, "You may call him Draco. And he was right, you certainly can. Not that it is suggested; there's nothing for many miles." Her pace was quick and confident, dragging me slightly.

Back inside of the lobby I stared at the ground, feeling hateful again. She walked to a nearby table and closed the umbrella, leaving it leaning against the legs. I was dizzy and tired from still being on the mend, now soaked as well and very hungry. I had nothing to lose so I took my shot, "Can I 'ave a wand?" It came out as a squeak and I knew she would register it as begging.

She smiled faintly, "We do not strive to weaken our family members, Madeleine. It is not representative of the Malfoy name for you to be seen ostensibly wandless. You will get your wand back, when you've earned our trust." She nodded and disappeared upstairs, her shoes clicking rhythmically against the hard stone.

I resigned to returning to Draco's room without hesitation. I would take a bath to rid the chill and perhaps sleep some more, maybe look for an incriminating diary to use as leverage against him. I was pleasantly surprised when I opened the door to see a heaping plate of fresh food on the desk, and a single note next to it written in silver;

Regards, Narcissa.


	7. ﴾ Look At Yourself ﴿

After eating, I spent the rest of the afternoon inappropriately attacking what was left of the expensive whiskey out of frustration for my prison sentence at the manor. At nine pm I had not offended my curfew in any way; instead I was prancing around the house without any restraint.

I had bathed and changed into a tiny, silver dress that was undoubtedly more appropriate for a party scene, but it was allowing me the flexibility to move around easily in my giddy state. My hair was long and wild, flowing behind me as I ran around the rooms carelessly.

I found a large stack of extra candles in a nearby drawing room and ran back to Malfoy's bedroom in bare feet, hardly able to contain the waxy sticks in my arms. Loud smacking of my feet on the tiles accompanied by immature giggling erupted around me. When I returned I strategically placed them in all the darkest corners, lighting an unreasonable amount of wicks to raise my spirits. 

Inside of the wardrobe I found several pale, periwinkle dresses and tore them down without a care in the world. After visiting the ballroom earlier, I'd found inspiration to make myself a ballet dress so that I could dance in the afternoons while Draco was gone. It was the last strand of normalcy that I could picture having in my now bleak life. After failing to find scissors anywhere, I stole a thick knife from the kitchens and sat on the cold floor of his room cutting at fabric and humming classical lullabies to myself.

It was nearing midnight, and in my drunken stupor I had succeeded in forgetting about the horrors of the situation. Several shockingly well cut pieces of fabric fanned out around my body in the center of the room. All I needed was a sewing pin and thread now, which perhaps I could request from Narcissa. It was all fun and games until the door opened and he was there, wide eyed at the scene unfolding in his personal quarters.

His mouth dropped open at the pastel fort of clothing around me. I was bent over on my knees with a monstrous gleaming knife in my small hand, and a very revealing party dress bunched up around my thighs. 

He stepped in and closed the door, shaking his head in disbelief, looking instantly infuriated. I was reminded of the fact that the room was abnormally bright from the dozens of candles that threatened to burn down the entire building. 

"I have to say, you continue to shock me Madeleine. If you wanted new clothing all you had to do was ask, not carve up my floor." He scowled noticeably as his eyes wandered to the donut of fabrics and I laughed ludicrously at his serious expression which reminded me of my father. 

"It is a ballet dress," I quipped back argumentatively, as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation for the mess before him.

He narrowed his expression on the desk where I had left the ungodly bottle of whiskey next to the spinning planet, and I heard him huff, "Right. I forgot how much of an alcoholic you are." His hand outstretched and the bottle flew over my head and met his fingers briefly before he moved it to a table by the doorway, as far away me as possible.

I blinked at him hardly phased by the aggressive gesture and waved the knife around like a sword, "Perhaps if you were a better 'usband I wouldn't be 'ave any drinking problems." I hiccupped in my French undertone while trying to give him an intense stare. I knew he could see the corners of my lips dancing as I tried to fight further hysterical laughing.

Having lost all patience he took swift strides across the room. Black robes rippled around his ankles with the movement. He angled down towards me to grab the knife but I leaned back on one hand and pointed the tip of the blade at his advance, suddenly breathing hard. My heart dropped several octaves as a sobering wave crashed over me. 

He smirked hideously at my attempt to cut him, "You will give me that knife RIGHT. NOW. Or I will take it from you and decapitate you." He stood casting his shadow down at me, his eyes were cold and lifeless.

I wavered drunkenly, still breathing hard with the knife outstretched. My eyes glistened deplorably, "Please, do. So I don' 'ave to spend another minute with you." 

His face faltered at the awful statement and I saw for a second what looked like pain there. Without thinking I brought the knife rapidly up to my skin and pressed the sharp metal across my entire throat threateningly, leaving it in place as though to slice any moment. A small trickle of blood made it's way down my neck as I stared sadly at him, my lips trembled and my eyes brimmed with tears. The mood in the room swung dangerously low just then as he realized I was being serious.

He exhaled heavily, trying to control the panic that was spreading across his face. I saw that he was breathing a lot more rapidly. His fingers twitched slowly forward as if I was a stray dog that would surely bite if he moved too quickly. "You're very drunk Madeleine, don't do anything hasty," he whispered in a shaky voice. 

I leaned away from his fingers feeling resentful that he could make threats to decapitate me but I apparently couldn't do the same to myself. I had no freedom anymore. 

Up until that moment I had merely meant to intimidate him. But I found myself suddenly wondering if it would be best to just take my own life while I was still inebriated enough to not think twice. Otherwise, it would be a lifetime of imprisonment to the Malfoy family. I felt a hot tear slid down my cheek, and I croaked in a tight voice, "If I have one choice left, et es dis one."

He swallowed, and I could see his jaw clenching. His eyes had changed from murderous to something softer as he focused on the knife pressed into my skin. He had slowly lowered himself to kneel on one knee in front of me, both of us surrounded by beautiful bright colored fabrics. I dug the knife in deeper with a gasp at the false sense of assurance he was giving me, and the sting of the blade caused me to wince.

He swallowed again and I watched the lump in his throat bob. He opened and closed his mouth, searching for words and blinking at me, his hand outstretched partially across the space between us. Finally he sighed seeming to gain some momentary strength, "I...know it seems like that. But you have so many choices left, I promise. Please don't do this." His piercing blue eyes were stricken with sincerity that I found difficult to trust. I choked and dropped the knife anyways, heaving in deep breaths of anguish that I had been too cowardly to finish the job. I smashed both hands against the floor and let out a huge scream, feeling more trapped than ever.

Like lighting he grabbed the blade and stashed it somewhere in his robes. I sat there on the floor rocking back and forth and crying hysterically for the second night in a row. 

He let me weep for a few minutes before he tried to lift me up by my arm, his cold fingers clamping on my skin. I held myself down like a rock in a pool, curling up to make it difficult for him to tug at me. I didn't want to go to the bed, where he would force me to endure our "routine".

"I don' want it, just put me in de dungeons," I whined, grateful that my long silky hair was covering my face from his concerned gaze.

"That's really where you would you rather be?" He asked disbelievingly.

My teary face met his, "I don' want to do de routine." It was all I could mutter through the phlegm in my throat and the uncontrollable gasping my lungs were forcing me to perform. 

He suddenly looked appalled at what I was hinting at, "That's obviously not happening tonight. Look at yourself." His eyes closed in impatience and I finally began to calm down at the clarification. He had kept his word so far that he would not force me to do anything, at a minimum.

He then kicked at the fabrics around me, probably checking for more possible weapons buried there. When nothing showed up but fluffy clothing he walked away from me, tugging off his robes with ease and stashing the knife in his desk with an irate expression. He sat in the leather desk chair in a dress shirt and pants and lit a cigarette. He just stared at me while puffing on it. The smell invaded the room quickly and my nose shriveled at the assault.

"You have been nothing short of hazardous since the day I met you," he rudely pointed out, and I watched as he glanced away out the window, letting small curls of grey smoke float around him. "And you haven't changed at all, especially when you drink. It's completely insane. One minute you're...laughing hysterically, and the next you have a knife to your bloody throat." His eyes looked faraway as he said it, clearly remembering other dramatic instances. 

It was so unbelievable that this boy had known me in the past. I did have a penchant for giggling fits and silly behavior, for partying and socializing, for panicking and crying... I however knew nothing about him other than his physical merits and small puzzle pieces of his complex personality.

"You scare me. You remind me of my aunt sometimes," he drawled, smoke escaping his lips as he stared through the glass before him. I frowned, unsure of who his aunt was and exactly how insulting it was to be compared to her.

I pushed myself to my knees knowing that I looked mopey, "Why choose me den!"

He turned to face me with impatient, pale grey eyes. His voice dropped back down to his directorial boom, "All I ask from you is to not exercise reckless abandonment for your safety. It exhausts me." His gaze landed back on my neck with a sick frown.

It was unfair of him to ask anything of the sort from me. I was a prisoner and practically a sex slave - I would rather commit suicide than spend an eternity like that. I gave him a broken, wordless look and then made my way to his bed, feeling horrifically lost from the knife incident. I attempted to ignore the burning line across my neck by sitting with my knees high up to my chest and back against the headboard.

It was a long time before he came to the bed. I had fallen asleep drunkenly curled up with my head in my knees. The candles were all blown out when I felt his hands pulling me apart gently, and putting me under the covers like a limp doll. 

He crawled in and pulled the covers up over both of us. I managed to swing my dizzy head towards him, but I wasn't able to speak through the stupor of the drunkenness. Instead I just moaned lightly in a fairy-like voice and lifted a lifeless hand to his face, grazing his cheek haphazardly. His arm was over the covers on my chest as he danced the tip of his wand along my neck while muttering an incantation to heal the broken skin. 

I felt him pushing my hair back from my face and little drops of his tears hit my skin. He then turned his back to me, but I was certain I could hear him crying into his pillow softly. My eyes spun from the inebriation and I dared not open them for fear of hurling. I faded into darkness with the sounds of his sobs echoing in my head.


	8. ﴾ Old Friends ﴿

The next morning I peered through heavily hooded eyes at the bright, sunny day starting to thrive outside of the manor. For once, it wasn't raining and I felt a stab of short-lived excitement for spring time. Outside of the glass I could see a massive garden below, and just beyond that orchards that looked very well-established. 

I was alone in Malfoy's raven colored bed again, still in the silver party slip. My eyes drifted down to where I'd left the mess of clothing cut up the night before, expecting it to still be piled carelessly at the foot of his desk. There were indeed marks in the floor where I had been slicing haphazardly, but the fabric was all missing. I frowned at the fact that he'd actually sabotaged all those hours of effort. 

I didn't see him for the entire day, assuming he was out in the world doing horrible and wicked things to innocent people. I felt dead inside from the night before when I was reminded of my drunken decision to threaten both myself and Malfoy to take my life. My depression at the world that I now lived in had peaked, and instead of crying I stared at the ceiling for hours numbly. I laid in the bed until well-past noon and refused to eat when a small female elf named Lippy appeared with food. At three in the afternoon I finally pushed myself to get out of bed to drag myself into his luxurious bathroom.

I stood frowning around the room, realizing I hadn't snooped as much as I should have. As the bath water ran I tugged at various heavy drawers. He had all manners of expensive and exotic looking products. Everything was psychotically and precisely organized into perfect rows and I mused if he was some sort of perfectionist or had a compulsive disorder. There was one drawer that seemed oddly empty, and I quickly realized from the remaining items that this was likely filled with razors and scissors prior to the night before. Of course - he wouldn't trust me again around anything sharp. The foolish display had done nothing but hinder my basic freedom to take my own life or wield a sharp weapon at a later date.

I busied myself with reading a few chapters of a historical book on ancient magical Britain which turned out to bore me greatly after only an hour. I spent most of the day mapping out the Manor once again, trying all of the locked doors, and wandering around the library for some time. It was nearly six at night when I heard a gentle knock on the door that caused my heart to slowly burn with anxiety.

I stood from the bed and fidgeted with my hands, not sure what to expect. Malfoy never felt the need to knock, probably because it was his own room, so who was requesting an invitation?

When I childishly ignored the third knock the heavy black door swung open apprehensively, and I was greeted by an elderly man and Narcissa behind him. They floated into the room with confidence and Narcissa shut the door, not moving much farther in. The elderly gentleman was well dressed, businesslike in a grey suit and tie, and his extremely long white beard was braided down the front of his chest.

He set a briefcase down on the desk while I stood now trembling by the post of the bed, unsure of what was going on. My fingers clung to the wood of the post defensively. Narcissa cut through my racing mind with a singsong tone, "Sit, Madeleine. Dr. Hallewell is our family physician. Draco has asked he look at your scars from the accident."

My eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them. The man stepped forward with an air of authority and gestured to the bed behind me, one hand behind his back and the other forward gracefully, "I suppose she would not remember me from last year. Draco has informed me that she was obliviated by the rebellion. Most unfortunate...that he has to start all over with her."

Narcissa looked to me with her lips pressed into a hard line in confirmation. I sat gingerly on the bed and the doctor grabbed the briefcase, approached me and knelt down. He lifted my leg up first so he could inspect the numerous white scars from the car shattering against the guard rail, then moved to my arms, nodding approvingly, "Nothing at all to worry about, Narcissa. Everything here can be cleared today."

He pulled at my face then, his large thumb rubbed against the line down my jaw. I shut my eyes, dreading the moment when he brought up the fresh knife mark across my neck but it never came.

"You will need to sit very still for me, girl. This will burn." I felt a blistering pain begin to form in a line on my leg and I clenched my jaw shut to resist screaming, shoving my eyes into my palms. His wand was pointed at one scar against my calf as he muttered quietly under his breath. It went on like that for almost an hour, intricate and obscenely slow. I felt dizzy and shocked from the horrible experience by the time he stood, huffing loudly from having been bent for so long. It had been invasive and I was now in my underwear standing and clinging to the post of the bed.

They left without any words of comfort or reassurance, clicking the door behind them. It was now half past seven and I ran to the bathroom to inspect the work that had just been completed. The doctor had indeed done a very good job; my skin was now flawless as ever. 

Because my life had no actual structure and I preferred to present myself to Malfoy irrationally I put on a new dress, picking out a fancy gown with long sleeves that made no sense for a night in. It was bright white and covered in small sparkles, and I felt drawn to the long lacy neck line that reached to my jaw. I brushed my hair out and wondered back and forth in the room like a bride at her wedding, waiting for Malfoy to come back so I could grill him with more questions about my life before the war.

When nine had come and gone I began to harbor animosity that he didn't respect the same curfew he'd given me. I shoved open the door to his room intending to go dance alone in the ballroom to relieve some of the pent up tension I was feeling. 

I was just stepping out onto the third floor landing when I ran into him, barefoot and in an inappropriate dress once again. His hair was slicked back this time and he was dressed in a long black coat and dress clothing. He had a black bowtie on instead of his typical tie and I raised an eyebrow at him mirroring his own inquisitorial expression. 

I saw his piercing gaze run down my bare legs with appreciation, "Hallewell was here. Good. And where were you going just now? Am I going to find another chaotic scene in my room?" He gave me a blank look, tilting his head only slightly.

I crossed my arms, "Non. Why are you dressed like dat?" I pointed at his bow and his eyes drifted down in vain to where it was tightly around his neck below his sharp jaw.

He smirked at me, his nose pulling tight on one side, "You want to dress me the next time I leave the house? This look isn't to your preference?" He stepped forward and closed the gap between us, and I could suddenly feel his breath on my face as he leered down at me.

I sighed up at him. He never gave me straight answers. As I went to move past him his hand shot out and clamped hard on my wrist, spinning me to face him again, "We have guests here. After the events of last night it's come to my attention that you need more socializing." He ran his blue eyes down my body and stopped at my bare toes, "We need to dress you accordingly and be back downstairs, promptly." 

Without anymore explanation he elected to drag me back up to his room and shut the door behind us. I pouted by the bed, annoyed with the way that the Malfoy's enjoyed drawing me throughout the house writhing in their painful grasps.

"Who es here? Death Eaters?" I spat it with distaste as he turned around from my wardrobe and tossed a long black dress at me. It was basic but there was a huge bow on the back at least.

"Something like that. Old friends." He shrugged and went to his own wardrobe to drag out items.

I took his distracted state as an opportunity to gallop to the bathroom and shut the door. I changed away from his prying eyes and when I re-emerged he was changed as well. The bow around his neck remained however.

He was looking at an odd contraption on his wrist, his eyebrows furrowed. It was a dial of sorts with all kinds of glowing numbers and spinning movements. I walked up to him to peer at it and his eyes lifted to mine, "It's a military watch. I pulled it off of a dead muggle - it serves it's purposes." 

He surprised me when he held it out to me and I took his hand in mine to peer down at it, trying to banish the notion that he'd probably murdered someone for it. It was black and bulky on his thin wrist; an assortment of information could be drawn from it ranging from the time of day, the day of the week, elevation above sea level, a compass... I could feel his eyes watching my face as I spun his wrist to watch the numbers and dials change with the motion.

His breath was heavy as he exhaled, "We are going to have to do our duties tonight, after we entertain our visitors." He was studying my reaction for any trace of hysteria, icy blue orbs like lasers on my face.

His hand slipped out of mine and I felt it wrap around my waist, inching me closer to him. I scowled and pushed against his chest belligerently, "You just said later."

He gave me a sly grin, "Of course. And you hopefully will not give me trouble later about it, Madeleine." I opened my mouth, insulted at his lack of chivalry. He tugged at my waist again so that our faces were inches apart, and I turned mine away to the side with shut eyes.

I hadn't really thought about what was coming for that evening until that moment. I'd only been intimate with him the first night and had managed to avoid the thought since.

He let me go and turned away from me. I watched as he pointed his wand at his desk and a drawer slid open, allowing for a small glass vial to lift out. He pinched it in his fingers and turned it over as though it was his first time eyeing it. The liquid inside swirled with golden shimmers.

"And what es dat? Are you going to drug me?" I barked and stomped my foot like a child.

He laughed and the genuine sound of his gentle voice made my heart flutter, "I've never once drugged you. You have quite the predilection for inebriation all on your own." I knew he was right about that; I'd always been wild at parties and consistently taken things way too far.

He eyed me with his head tilted back, his eyes hooded as if reconsidering his proposition, "I am simply going to offer you this. It's a euphoric drug. This is not to be confused as kindness - it is a tradeoff for tonight, for your word that you won't drink any alcohol." He pressed his mouth together looking serious, and I figured he had been highly unimpressed by my drunken state the evening before. 

He leaned near to me and closed it into my fist, his breath was on my neck as he whispered in my ear, "Take it, or don't. Just don't let Fawley convince you to drink anything, or I'll have both of your heads." Who was Fawley? I thought utterly bemused.

I tightened my hand around the glass but shook my head. It felt like a trap, "I will not take et unless you take et." My eyes were stern as I returned his gaze. Of course, I was bluffing. If we were to perform our routine again later than I would most certainly be taking it. I'd seen what it had done to him the first time and it looked promising.

He sighed and rubbed his face with one hand, an amused laugh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes, "It's not poisoned. Don't be daft."

I shrugged then, intending to present as much of a challenge as possible, "Den I suppose Fawley will be generous enough to get me through de night." His laugh vanished then, replaced by a venomous glare. Whoever Fawley was, apparently they didn't get along, and I wondered why he had invited them in the first place.

I watched as he drew another vile with the same shimmery gold liquid from the desk, uncorked it and downed it in front of me. He exhaled through tight lips and shut his eyes as it hit him, "You are the paragon of an irritant." He hissed and I blanked at the expensive wording. 

"You will drink that right now, as you have forced me to drink one," he commanded as his eyes opened again and I noticed his pupils had dilated to a fully blackened state.

I unfurled my fingers and glanced down at the potion. I inhaled sharply and chugged it back as well. It burned as it slithered down my throat with the promise of an altered state of mind. And with that he shoved me ahead of him into the hallway and then we made our way down to the first floor, his hand never far from the small of my back.


	9. ﴾ The King and Queen ﴿

The hallways of the Malfoy Manor were hardly lit, as though the expense of candles was not advantageous in such a sizable structure. 

Before we reached the dim first floor lobby both of us were flushed and breathing raggedly from the euphoria drugs we'd just downed upstairs. We were halfway down the second floor staircase when I pushed him instinctively into the wall, running my hands up around his neck and kissing him passionately. For once, he did not resist the romantic kissing. As his hands roamed around my body our tongues shoved into each other's mouths desperately. It was hot and messy and wet.

He squeezed at my waist and my back side, then ran his hands up over my breasts. I had shoved myself between his legs and could feel him already hardening against my abdomen when he held me away from himself by placing both hands on my shoulders, panting and hanging his head low to break eye contact. "Shit. This is not good. It's way too strong," His words came out breathy and desperate.

"Mmmhmm," Was all I could groan as my forehead hung against his, trying to shut my eyes. I was buzzing like an electricity pole, and all I wanted was to go back upstairs and strip his clothing off like an animal. I couldn't believe he had planned to subject me to the affects of the potion all alone for the night. 

"Just...just try to focus on feeling happy, not lustful," he recommended as he stabled himself away from me, choking slightly on his words. He squeezed at my shoulders as though unable to follow the instructions himself.

Unlike him, I was reckless. I reached my hands up to his jawline and pulled his face into mine again and it started all over. Our lips were soft on each other's and he let moans escape against mine from the heated affection.

I began kissing his neck around his collar and he whispered, "Fuck" into my hair. I could feel his fingers fighting with my dress as he slid his arm underneath the fabric and dragged up the inside of my thigh.

"Well you two certainly picked up where you left off." A salty female voice lilted towards us and Malfoy literally pushed me off of him in humiliation. I staggered back several stairs before stunning the backlash. He tugged at his collar to straighten it as I swiveled to see a petite, beautiful girl in a bright green dress staring up at us with a wicked smirk from the first floor lobby.

She had long wavy brown hair and huge, dark blue eyes. She was incredibly tanned considering we were in England, curvy in her slip, and held a directorial regard. Her dress clung stylishly to her body and she had a silvery flask in one hand. "Frenchness, it's been a second hasn't it?" She smiled at me with perked eyebrows and I sent her a confused look, trying to cool my body temperature.

"If I failed to mention it, Fawley, she's been completely obliviated." Malfoy had already regained his composure and he tugged at my wrist to draw me down to the lobby as though we hadn't just been caught in such a suggestive act. 

Fawley shrugged nonchalantly, as though the news were as unimportant as the daily weather, "How dismal you allowed this, Malfoy. You always were a miserable excuse for a boyfriend." She chugged at the flask, throwing her hair back without warrant. When we'd cleared the bottom step I noticed that several other young men our age had gathered not far from her. The way she eagerly drank gave me a mild understanding of why he'd been worried about her influencing me negatively.

Malfoy nodded to them and motioned to a doorway nearby, still looking rosy from the potion coursing through his veins. His fingertips danced on my spine to move me down the hallway. The group shuffled into a parlor that I recognized from my snooping around earlier; it had a rouge theme and heavy, antique furniture clustered around the tall hearth. A fire was already blazing which was peculiar given no one had been in it beforehand. The tall sheet of windows to the left was not unlike those in Draco's room.

As the unfamiliar characters settled themselves in the seating arrangements I swallowed, hovering near Malfoy and unsure of how to calm down my hyperactive, elated feeling. I didn't recognize a single guest and I was nervous. It was as though I was a floating head, hardly able to feel my body in the frenzied state. My heart pounded from the lusty desire that sat within it, which was the opposite of what I needed to be feeling in that moment.

He fell into a huge head chair and his fingers caught in my dress, inviting me to sit with him. I sat between his legs like a giddy child and his arms wrapped possessively around my waist, tugging me into his chest. He released one hand long enough to wrap my hair to one side of my shoulders and I felt his breath on my neck. He had pulled me so far back against him that my face was almost parallel to his and his arms were locked like iron around my body. 

A smug looking boy next to Fawley laughed under his breath at our closeness, his eyes dragging over Malfoy's grip across me. She slapped his knee with a giggle and then left her hand there, showing off for the room that they were together. 

Fawley trailed her eyes on us and I noticed how glittery they were from inebriation as she held her hand forward, "Behold, the King and Queen!" She was giggling pervasively while the dark boy behind her took the flask out of her hand to take a swig at it himself, then hid it on the other side of his figure intentionally. His spine was perfectly straight, his composure that of a knight in armor. He looked serious and calm, but callous all the same. 

Another young man with dark brown hair and horrible teeth leaned forward to his knees on the couch opposite, "Tell us, Draco. Does she still give you lap dances like she did back in the day? I'll never forget it." Everyone erupted in laughter at the memory except for Draco and I. I chewed on my lip and cast my eyes downwards at the embarrassment of not being able to summon such an event occurring publicly.

Malfoy's voice came out deep and unforgiving next to my ear. He curtly scolded the other boy, "You will apologize to my wife Graham, if you intend to retain your vital organs." His body was rigid below mine suddenly, as if he couldn't contain his fury at what had just been said, and he squeezed me against him even tighter.

It was painfully silent as the boy named Graham sneered at Draco before finally resting his eyes on my face with resentment. He muttered a weak apology in my direction that I knew held no weight.

After about thirty minutes of the boys drinking and combatively conversing, Draco was losing his composure beneath me. He was tugging at my frame by tangling his fingers in my dress, breathing against my neck and struggling to focus on conversations with the other boys. He was pointlessly and wordlessly begging for an interaction that I could not give to him there. 

The girl named Fawley finally sat up from her position in her partner's lap where her head had been located. I'd learned that his name was Blaise through eavesdropping on the circle before us. He seemed chilly and detached in nature, hardly saying much and eyeing people down with judgement. She tapped on my knee. Malfoy was finally busy looking the other way so I squirmed in his hold to lean towards her.

"So," she whispered with a silly smile, "You don't remember me at all, do you babe?" Her oceanic eyes danced across my body and she hiccupped from the drinking. She was stunning and magnetic, and I wanted to know exactly how I had known her before.

I shook my head to say no. She sighed heavily and stood, her hand reaching down to me, "Let's go learn how to be besties again then, shall we?" 

I was excited by the thought and had clasped my fingers in hers when I felt a sharp tug backwards. "She's not going anywhere alone with you Hilda," Malfoy coolly warned, now aware of the situation.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You're not her babysitter, Draco. Show some confidence for once. If she was going to leave you for me, she would've done it ages ago."

This warranted explosions of snickering from the other boys. I felt Malfoy's arms pull me far enough back that his lips were on my ears, "You will recall what I told you earlier. No alcohol." He said the last two words utterly dripping with acid and I winced. Then he'd released me, his fingers only lightly dancing on my ribs to suggest that I could leave any time that I wanted to. 

A wave of appreciation rolled over me and my heart lifted at the permission, or perhaps it was just the euphoria potion taking control. Without thinking, I turned my face and kissed his cheek for a long pause. "Thank you," I whispered into his ear in return. He inhaled sharply as though uncomfortable with the public affection. Then I was up and out of the chair, following Hilda through the doors without a look back at him.

۞۞۞۞۞

She tugged my hand forward and it felt like we were sailing through the manor on an invisible magic carpet. She was cunning and charming, slightly devilish but not wicked or worn out the way that the other people had been in my life up until that moment. She looked healthy and present, and not affected by the supposed war like everyone else was.

My heart longed to know her again, although I couldn't explain it. Again, it was likely the euphoria potion at play but I let the cards fall as they wanted to. She dragged me up the stairs to the second floor and stopped at two monstrous, silver plated doors. They were ornately carved with silver trees. Golden leaves were falling off of them to imitate the autumnal season. I recognized them as the ballroom doors.

She winked at me and shoved them open, and we flitted inside of the almost pitch black room. Large pillars loomed on either side, holding up the glass ceiling with care. The carpeting was worn and ancient, a dusty pink and gray design hardly recognizable. A white, ancient piano loomed in the corner apparently forgotten. We ran instinctively to the center of the room and to my absolute shock she tugged me into a tight hug, which we held for minutes. 

"I've missed you, Mad," She gently breathed it in my ear, "I know you don't know who I am, but trust me, we had some good times."

She pulled back and I could see a glimmer of tears in her eyes as she took me in. My lips mashed together guiltily and my nose felt heavy and salty as I fought not to cry in return, not sure of what to say. It suddenly occurred to me that she cared very deeply for me and I felt overwhelmed by the sudden and only show of true care that I'd received since waking up from my coma.

I pulled her down and both sat, cross legged and holding hands. She filled me in on months of memories. Her and I had been best friends in Slytherin House at Hogwarts, just before Draco and I had ended up together. She confirmed my reasoning that I'd chased him down, thinking it was an innocent attempt at hooking up with him. He'd refrained from explaining the bequeathment mark that would inevitably appear on my neck, trapping me in a marriage to him. Her and I had given it our best shot at taking him down despite my controversial feelings for him that had been growing. Suddenly, we'd been married and I'd disappeared from the face of the earth. And that was all she knew.

I was shaking my head at the floor by the end of her stories, entirely spellbound by the reality she was describing. 

She pulled her flask out from behind her back suddenly and wiggled it in my vision, "Fuck it Frenchness. Back in the day, you used to fight him over everything. Don't let him dictate you now." She held it out to me and I accepted the metal container in weak fingers.

"'E...made me promise not to," I stated with a whimper.

She shoved it at my lips meaning to encourage me, "Oh right, I'd forgotten he was your father. You're only married, he can't tell you what to do. Besides he's miserably in love with you. You can drink with me tonight and he'll still not lift a finger to you."

I shook my head at the insinuation, knowing full well that he would, "'E will lock me in de dungeons."

She laughed hysterically to my surprise, and slapped the carpet, "He would never do that to you. He's totally enamored with you. But his prick ass has done a good job of convincing you he would hurt you, hasn't he?" Her eyebrows raised so far I thought they would disappear behind her dark bangs.

I frowned down at my black dress which was barely covering my knees. Perhaps she was right, but I had no memories of him to base this new information off of. She also was not aware of the fact that I was wandless, stuck at the Manor, with nightly duties.

I grabbed the flask, only drinking a light gulp. 

She took a chug herself, then I found my fingers in hers as she yanked me up, "Let's dance. I know you love that." 

She lifted me up and we both swayed in the darkness of the abandoned room. We drifted to a standing position, both chugging at the flask now. We spun, and even though I didn't have any memories of her from my time at Hogwarts I could feel her warmth and care drifting across the space between us.

I suddenly felt the instinctual need to pull away. I spun on the spot, my toes pushing to a stiff position as I raised into a long-starved ballet stance. My dress floated around me, and somehow my golden hair began to float as well. It was though I was underwater. I moved gracefully, taking small jumps in the dance, and my confidence grew. I moved across the room like an underwater princess, parts of myself and my clothing floating uncontrollably. 

I was twirling in the middle of the room when the doors slammed open. Hilda was meters away having simply been spinning in a taught, elegant way.

Malfoy's face looked livid as he approached me, his figure once again resembling a dark cloud. His hand reached forward and steadied my movement by grabbing my dress and ripping me towards himself. "The absolute insolence...you're drunk, aren't you?" He asked bluntly, as though I had just destroyed his favorite personal item.

My eyes moved helplessly between his and Hilda's. He noticed the interaction and floated his gaze to where she had stopped dancing, and she now looked slightly awkward, "Leave, Fawley. Your fiancée is waiting at the door."

He grabbed my wrist and ripped me towards the exit without a further care for what Hilda did. I sent her a backwards expression of understanding before he had me tripping up the stairs, and eventually into our shared bedroom.

He threw me onto the bed and slammed the door behind himself, running a hand through his now messy locks of platinum hair. He continued to pace while stealing vicious glances at me on the bed. I kept catching his blue-grey eyes desperately hoping to calm him, but his breath kept coming out his of nose in jagged breaths to express his anger. 

I was still quite high from the euphoric potion and I eventually slipped off the bed, thinking I could solve the issue through affection, "Draco..." I began, using his first name with sudden boldness. I reached towards him but he tore his shoulder away from my touch, looking cantankerous.

His face was wrought with a harrowing expression. "You have once again betrayed my trust, Madeleine." He looked desperate and pained, and I watched as he lit a cigarette and kept pacing. I approached him again, hoping to still the angry pacing.

He blew smoke in my face as he reached the end of his loop at the desk, "I told you there would be consequences. How do you suppose I punish you?" His eyes searched mine back and forth leaning on the desk, his clothing now looking slightly loosened.

I saw in his movements that the euphoric potion was still playing with his thoughts as well. He evidently did not have any idea in his mind that regarded punishment. 

His jaw clenched and his eyes filled with a distraught appearance.

I slowly reached out and took the burning cigarette from his fingers and sucked in deeply, meeting his barbarous gaze. I had decided to just take command. It wasn't as though I didn't want the sex at that point - I too was quite high and drunk, and from what I'd learned our history was completely consensual according to Hilda.

After a few puffs I doused the cigarette in the ashtray of the desk and tugged at his dress clothing to draw him to the bed, then spun and tossed him onto the sheets. My body hovered over his as he sat up confused, and I tore off his jacket. I leaned into him, shoving him deep into the sheets and kissed him momentarily, before following along his jaw with sloppy kisses. I pawed at his belt between my straddled legs, and when it had finally come off I wasted no time unbuttoning his pants.

Finally he resigned to the sexual advances and I felt him searching for my lips against my hair. My face met his, and our tongues touched as my hand ripped his zipper down. He let out frazzled breaths against my face, and then suddenly he was lifting me up by my hips and throwing me down, grinding into me. I was buried amongst his sheets helplessly as he squared me below him with power and authority.

He shoved me farther down into his mattress and violently tore at my panties, shredding them off of my body. His aggression continued to peak as he did the same to my dress, almost ripping it down the center with his wand to remove it. I was now lying completely naked below him, acutely aware that I had awoken a dragon.

His fingers met my neck and he choked me roughly as he positioned himself against my wet folds. He kissed me harshly and began pushing against me as I gasped painfully for air. I could feel the angry squeeze of his finger tips on my esophagus as he shoved into me relentlessly. He traced his lips along my collarbones while still choking me and pounding me, without even checking to see if I could still breath comfortably. 

Finally his face met mine again, his platinum hair fell over my forehead and his pointy nose pushed into mine. His eyes looked violent as he smirked down at me hardly breathing normally, and whispered softly, "Stand up and bend over."

I felt the blood leave my face in uncertainty. When I didn't move, he backed up and swirled his hand behind my neck, tugging me upwards to a standing position by the hair on my neck. I hardly had a second to shoot him a fearful look before his hand pushed on my spine and I fell into the bed face first, catching myself hardly by my outstretched palms. My long hair sprayed across my back randomly. His fingers shoved me down further, and then tugged at my hips to raise my back side up. He shoved into me again and it felt twice as big, twice as painful. 

I could hear him moaning loudly but all I could see was the obsidian sheets before my eyes. He had been betrayed that night, and he was taking it out on me. It wasn't inherently unpleasing, just extremely rough. I clamped my eyes shut as my orgasm built and I tried hard to conceal it against the heartless pounding of his body. He clearly felt the tightening of my abdomen though as it betrayed me, and I heard him releasing, felt the explosion within me. He gasped hard and shoved my head into the sheets with his flat hand on the back of my hair.

After he'd finished I dug at the bedding to let myself under. I wasn't traumatized, just aware that it could've been much, much worse. When he came to the other side I was shocked when he tugged at my body to pull me into him.

His face nudged into my neckline and I felt his naked body against mine. He breathed deeply, peacefully even as his fingers dug into my midriff. "You will always seduce and deceive me," he whispered into my hair, "Just not always in that order." His lips found my neck and he was kissing me there as though we were passionate lovers and he hadn't just been so rough with me.

"So...do you care about me?" I almost begged the question in a tiny voice, unsure of what to think of the unnecessary kissing. I'd spent multiple days with him that were absolutely, wildly controversial. 

He exhaled deeply and froze just below my jawline. His spiked hair cut into the side of my face and his breath shot across my neck in a tickling way.

"You're the only thing I've ever loved. But then you died, and so did I...in a lot of ways. I'm not the same person I was before, I'm sorry," he whispered into my ear. I rewrote the cryptic sentence in my mind as I attempted to decipher it. I heard him swallow hard, pulling away and his fingers trailed along my ribs. He laid down then, just behind my head and breathed into my hair until both of us fell asleep.


	10. ﴾ You Can't Outrun Me ﴿

The morning after the odd Slytherin reunion I awoke as usual without Malfoy. What shocked me the most was when he did not come back to the room at all that night, and I slept alone peacefully, spreading out in the center of the bed without the psychopathic boy breathing hatred around the room. 

The days began to drag on like that and I increasingly became more bold in his absence. I tore through every book in his room looking for private entries, making a mess of the perfectly organized system he had in place there. Unfortunately, he'd locked up his desk to my dismay. Then when I had memorized his personal things with little satisfaction I took to going outside as the days were warm and sunny. On more than one occasion I was caught and scolded by Narcissa who seemed to appear out of thin air on the gravel pathway while I was trying to leave through the gates. I decided to switch my approach and followed the tall iron framework of the property enclosure, expecting it to suddenly fade away. It never did, just kept going for miles all the way around the perimeter. The fence was absurdly tall with mean looking spires on the top that were sure to impale any trespassers with one slip of a shoe. That was if they could even pass through the magical barrier as a non-familial person.

After a week had passed I resigned to starting a garden in the warm April temperatures, given Herbology had always been a staple practice in my family. There was a decrepit garden bed behind the house that I chose to rehabilitate, and I spent multiple days fighting with angry magical plants that had been completely abandoned there. Without a wand I had to do everything by hand like a normal human and before long I was covered in scratches and my nails were filled with soil on a consistent basis. I ruined many of the black dresses, choosing purposefully those colors only for gardening since they were my least favorite and made me feel like a widow. 

After two weeks I had completely adapted Draco's room as my own. There were flower clippings everywhere, hung to dry or placed in glasses. I had potted so many plants around the room it now resembled a jungle. I'd managed to clear out the chosen garden plot with the help of a begrudging elf named Nibbles, who I later learned was named that way for a reason. She would shock me randomly by biting me if I got too close to her, then would go on to bite herself as punishment. Her arms were covered in teeth marks and it made me ill when I noticed them. 

Narcissa had sent her around once she'd noticed my infatuation with the gardening. Nibbles brought me all manners of tools at the snap of a finger, which I'd realized I could simply do and call on any of the elves at any time as a Malfoy.

It was now the third week of April and I hadn't seen Draco in so long that I couldn't even remember the sound of his voice. I had known him for a mere few days before he'd disappeared. The sun was setting and I was making my way back around the house in a filthy dark blue dress, my hair hung in a massive braid off of my shoulder and my cheeks were rosy from slaving away with Nibbles. As I was about to round the corner the sound of dark voices interrupted my thoughts.

"You _will_ bring the Potter boy to the dark lord if it is the last thing you do. You have already failed him once; the mere fact that you are still alive after trying to flee the country is nothing short of a miracle." It was an older man whom I didn't recognize, his tone was maleficent and restless. I flattened myself against the cold, blackened stones of the manor and twisted my neck to peer around the corner. 

Draco was pacing in black robes, his hands on his hips. He looked filthy and sick; his platinum hair was covered in dirt and his face had smudges all over it. On the Manor porch stood another courtly man with the same white-blond hair only much longer, and I realized it was the infamous Lucius Malfoy that I had seen on the family tree. He had the same regal posture, pointy nose and freezing blue eyes as Draco. In his fingers was a long black cane with a silver serpent head on the top. 

He slammed the cane into the porch brick with a deafening crack and Draco's eyes flew to him.

"I am aware of the dark lord's graces, father. I had Potter in my hands this time. I took out Granger, which will weaken him severely." Draco's face was blank as he said the words but his eyes were flashing defensively.

Lucius broke out into a thin smile that mocked his son, "Well, I surely doubt you were that close to finishing this, if all you managed to achieve was murder the mudblood. Those rubes are still snooping around the property line. This must be ended at once." My hand flew to my mouth in shock as the curse word sliced through the air. It was so offensive and yet Lucius had used it like an every day form of dialogue.

"Despite her filthy ancestry she was a strong ally for him. He'll be exhausted emotionally and resourcefully, and I doubt they'll be able to decipher the ward's magic now," Draco batted back nastily.

It was quiet as the wind at the manor picked up for the evening and I shivered in my damp and muddy dress against the bricks. The sun was rapidly falling out of the sky and I was trapped outside until the Malfoy's before me decided to clear the doorway.

I heard Lucius sniff disapprovingly, "So. You are out of options. Since you have failed to impregnate your wife you will need to use her as a weapon. Had you not earlier suggested Potter's fondness for her?"

There was a shuffling on the gravel as I watched Draco take several steps closer to Lucius, "I will not put her at the mercy of this war. She is the principle and final standing provider for the Malfoy blood line."

Lucius shook his head with an unsympathetic chuckle, "My, my. You have allowed yourself to become delicate with her again. Have you ensured she is aware of her duties? You give me no choice but to place a deadline on this little game you are playing, Draco."

Draco visibly scowled, "I am _not_ delicate with her. I claim her every night. If you haven't noticed, I've only been here to do that for less than a week." I started to shake from the nature of the conversation. It was an awkward concept to speak to one's parents about forcing a pregnancy on your partner, and I frowned at how easily the Malfoy's conducted the conversation.

Lucius' gaze floated to his surroundings as if bored by the discussion and I pulled back from the edge in a panic that he'd noticed me. I heard him continue on, "Narcissa tells me she's been...tearing up the property like a savage, dragging mud into the hallways on some frenzied gardening mission. She's far too liberal and at ease here. If what you say is true and you have been obliviating your memories of her, than she should not sense any pity in you." A long pause hung in the climate as the sun finally dipped below the trees. 

"Mark my words, boy," Lucius pushed on and his voice sliced through the air like knives, "If I find that you've been storing memories of her from before, I will personally put an end to your life. You disgrace me with your emotional capacity." I heard the thunderous door of the Manor open and slam shut. 

I gasped against the exterior wall, heaving in tiny pants to try and remain silent in case one of them was still out there. I was freezing, but the desire not to expose myself outweighed the lack of warmth in my bones.

Had Draco obliviated his memories too? Perhaps only portions of them, considering he did seem to remember quite a lot from our history together. Had he just obliviated the emotional parts?

Lucius had snarled at the capability of Draco to feel, as though such a human quality was shameful. And now Draco was undoubtedly going to be heartless and inhumane with me to prove himself. My hand flew to my mouth to remain silent as tears rolled down my face. 

I decided I was too scared to go back inside and face my newly reprimanded husband. Luckily, I had been outside before he'd returned and had witnessed the conversation. I had forewarning.

In an hour it would be nine at night and my curfew would come, but I didn't heed this information as I peered around the corner again, confirming that they had both gone in. I darted down the gravel pathway now at full speed, remembering my days as an athlete in the muscle memory and form. I was sure that this was the time I had to make a real effort to escape. When I reached the gates that were locked as always, I tugged into the hedges again and climbed with speed and panic. I reached the perfectly sawn off top, wobbling with my feet swimming deep under the slicing leaves of fragile wooden supports.

The hedges were thankfully the same height as the spires. I shut my eyes and braced myself to jump, half expecting Narcissa to reappear as she always did. When she didn't I jumped from at least ten feet over the fence. When I collided with the ground beyond the property I felt my wrist break on the impact. I rolled in silent misery, gasping to shut down the desire to scream loudly. I had no time to waste; it didn't matter if Narcissa had claimed nothing was around for miles. She could have been lying in order to deter me from trying to run.

I pushed to my feet as my wrist began to swell and burn. I ran at full speed through a forested dirt lane as the darkness peaked with the absence of the sun. The woods were terrifying in the moonlight and with every cracking stick my heart lurched.

After a long time it eventually opened up to fielded lanes, and I stood momentarily to let my burning lungs catch up. My knees shook from the untimely, forced cardio. I stumbled forward and walked with a dizzy head. The fields stretched to the horizon and I could see no lights of establishments anywhere nearby. 

My dress was caked and hardened from the mud of the garden. It was icy cold in the late April evening. I picked up my pace again and cried out as the lactic acid in my legs begged me to stop. I knew it was well past my curfew now but the mark had not burned yet, and I wondered if he was simply giving me a head start only to mock me later by showing up right in front of me effortlessly. Or even better, he hadn't noticed my disappearance. He didn't always come to the bedroom directly at nine by any means. I mentally kicked myself for not trying to run over the past three weeks while he was away. I'd have had plenty of time to make it far across the landscape before Narcissa or the elves took notice.

Another hour of frantic and depleted jogging had me wavering, suddenly unable to run anymore. My body was already underweight from refusing to eat full meals of the exotic food the Malfoy's fed me. I stumbled on the gravel lane now, having reached flatter terrain. It was only after I had slowed down that I noticed the yellow glow of a home ahead in the distance. Several bright points of light in a cluster suggested human inhabitance.

I laughed half-heartedly at the discovery, not even sure if I could make it there with the little energy I had left. My feet forced themselves to continue forward, even though I was now catching my toes on even the slightest stones or potholes. 

I was closing in on the last kilometer of my journey towards the lights, my tears catching in my eyelashes, when I collapsed to the ground writhing in agony from the scorch on my neck. It had never felt so painful and my eyes blurred from near blindness. The crack of lighting blasted mere feet from me and I knew he had come at last.

I rolled my head towards the explosive entrance and saw him approaching me calmly, dark smoke dissipating in the wind. He was bizarrely dressed in black joggers and a white hoodie. He knelt next to where I was lying on the dirt and sighed with severe disappointment.

Several burning moments passed as he just glared down at me like a spiteful parent. I was completely thrown when his words came out softly, "Madeleine, this is agony. We've already discussed this. You can't out run me." 

I fought to find a response but I was totally petrified. He narrowed his eyes at my silence and bent to tug me to a standing by my broken wrist and at that point I found my voice, shrieking so loudly he stepped back in shock.

"You broke your fucking wrist, didn't you?" He spat, clearly enraged, "This entire affair is a perfect example of abandonment for your own safety." His long hair blew messily around his face and he shot me a look of disgust, lines appearing between his eyebrows. His fingers clamped down around my dress and he disapparated us back to his bedroom in a split second, and all of the hours of running had been for nothing.

I let myself remain on the carpet in defeat as I had done the day I'd arrived. I was exceptionally fatigued from the hours of exercise, filthy from gardening, and emotionally distraught. 

His hand was on his mouth as he stared down at my display of detachment. My eyes slid to his deadpan and I knew I looked dead inside. He shrugged in agitation and waved his hands apart as if to ask _what?_

Finally he spoke in a tight voice, "Am I missing something? Why are you only running away now?" He turned his head to look at me sideways with pensive eyes. I could see the gears turning in his mind as he mused the endless possibilities for my betrayal. He fidgeted with the string hanging from his hoodie looking horrifically suspicious.

I pushed my head back into the carpet, not wanting to admit that I had been eavesdropping earlier, "You said you remember me, you said you loved me, but now somehow et is different between us. 'ow can dat be?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion. I was hoping he would admit to wiping his memories out as I had just overheard in his conversation with Lucius.

"What?" He asked, shaking his head, "You know I remember you. What the fuck is going on? You had better give me an answer right now." His voice was starting to drop dangerously low with impatience.

My heart started fluttering with what could only be described as romantic nervousness. I was surprised by how much it affected me seeing him again and hearing his voice after so long. Despite his conversation with Lucius, he didn't seem to be acting any more violent with me.

I swallowed and traced the ornamentation of the paneling on the ceiling, "I need to know. Do you remember loving me?" 

He raised his eyebrows with wide eyes, "Do _you_ remember loving _me,_ Madeleine? Have you been faking obliviation this entire time?" Suddenly his face was contorting angrily as the idea blossomed in the air around him. I could see his eyes flickering all over me as though something that had been invisible before suddenly was everywhere.

I sat up and frowned, surprised that he would assume I was even capable of that level of fraudulence. Before I could respond he reached forward and yanked me to my feet by the collar of my dress and I was being shoved into the wall. His nose pushed into mine as he bore his pale gray eyes into my soul and suddenly I was blinded by a searing headache. 

He was using occlumency to search my memories. He worked his way from the most recent and back, skipping past quite a lot haphazardly. Luckily, he did not hover on the current day's events and missed my eavesdropping. Images of his face as he had sex with me were quickly dismissed, then he lingered on a memory of mine where he'd been talking and I had spent too much time focusing on how beautiful he was as he described something. He pushed past that, past the Slytherin's visiting the manor, and stopped on the day he killed Neville. In the memory he was approaching me rapidly, his wand out as Neville dropped at my feet and my thoughts were that he was the most terrifying person I'd ever seen.

My temples throbbed and ached with the intrusion but I was glued to the wall, frozen in space and time. He delved farther into the day before where I'd seen him on the catwalk and been confused, assuming he was an Order guard. He replayed this one over and over, searching for signs that it was doctored. My memory recounted itself the exact same way each time; me realizing who he was and feeling frightened that my "so-called" rapist had appeared to take me away. Then he moved further into the past into the rusty room where I was shackled and tied to the bed, to my conversation with Ginny and Ron. Them explaining who he was and how terrible it would be for me to ever remember my time with him. Then, them justifying obliviating me before my long coma.

He moved further again and a jagged, broken memory of the car crash echoed between our minds. I felt his breath gasp inches from mine at this one. It was incomplete and gave no real explanation for the event. 

He hovered there, watching me acknowledge his hand on the gear shift and then he watched the car hit the guard rail and felt the rivers of pain I'd experienced as the car folded around me. 

Finally he kept moving and it was a massive, black void. My memories were empty, and then I was seventeen. A horribly awkward memory of me making love to a French boy on a hot beach in the middle of a summer night appeared between us. He focused in on my gentle movements and the love I was feeling in my heart towards my previous boyfriend. My young, naked body was bouncing in the moonlight. It was sweet and caring and in the memory I was elated beyond imagination, contemplating spending the rest of my life with him. But then, Hogwarts had happened the following week and he'd broken my heart simply suggesting it could never work long distance.

My body squirmed against his, trying to shut down the mind invasion. This was not acceptable for him to be seeing. My fingers trembled as I tangled them in his hoodie, trying with vain to push him off. My wrist felt like it would snap under the pressure.

Then he finally stepped away and I fell to my knees dizzy and blinking. He leaned with both hands on his desk, long hair falling over his eyes. I could see his pointy jaw clenching and grinding as he thought about what he'd found in my head. 

"Either you have exceptional abilities to prevent occlumency, or you're innocent," he said quietly, sounding as though he didn't necessarily believe either. He turned to face me again, and pointed his wand at my wrist, muttering a healing incantation. I felt the painful throbbing slowly fading. 

He watched as I turned the inflicted limb over before myself, grateful. 

"I still don't understand why you decided to run tonight, Madeleine. Did something happen in my absence?" He asked, genuine concern spreading across his face.

I looked at him, extremely confused as to why he was being so considerate. "Non, nothing 'appened. I just...wanted to see 'ow far I could go..." I gave him a pathetic answer.

He stared at me with obvious distrust, "Excuse me if I'm wrong, but it's not really like you to go for twelve kilometer _strolls."_

It was awkward and silent as we stared back and forth. He finally called me out, "Were you trying to run away? Because if you were than just fess up."

I looked at the floor, slumped on my knees and rubbing my wrist, "Yes. I'm sorry. I...'eard your father was 'ome, and I panicked." I left out the fact that I'd overheard their conversation, hoping he would surmise I'd found out Lucius was on the property any other way.

He nodded, finally accepting my explanation. I looked up at him feebly. "That makes sense, I'd be afraid too," he whispered, looking away at the windows.

I wobbled to my feet ungracefully and made my way weakly to the bathroom to try and bathe, hoping he would skip the routine that night and just let me go to bed. I shut the door behind myself, relieved that I'd made it that far into the evening without further arguments.


	11. ﴾ Dance With Me ﴿

I emerged from the bath feeling like a rickety old woman. I brushed my hair and then stood like a statue, stuck at the door. I was dreading the "routine" that was inevitably coming. Finally when I was bored and tired of standing there I twisted the knob.

He was sitting at his desk writing something. The white hood of his sweater was up over his head and I could only see his pointy nose and spikes of hair sticking out. He didn't acknowledge me when I came in, just kept scribbling with his expensive ivory quill, surrounded to the brink with plants that I had potted in the room. An angry Lionspurt on his desk kept leaning over its pot to try and bite the flittering quill in his fingers.

I floated to my wardrobe and tugged out a shiny blue night slip changing nervously behind him, hoping he wouldn't turn around and catch me naked. It was only eleven at night but I went to the bed and pulled at the thick covers. I shuffled completely underneath them, hair and all and shut my eyes, trying to forget about the fact that carbon dioxide would build up in mere minutes.

I was almost drifting off when he tore the comforter off of my face and I groaned up at him.

"Get up. I have something for you," he commanded without regard for how exhausted I was. I blinked at him and then rolled over defiantly, turning my back to him in protest. I didn't want any presents, I wanted to simply die in my sleep.

He tugged at my arm until I gave up, stood, and he steadied me in his arms. The smell of his cologne wafted between us.

"Why do we 'ave to be awake?" I whined, displeased. He could easily use magic to move across the country side, but I had just run for almost three hours. He had no idea how utterly destroyed I was.

His hands were on my shoulders and he caught my dreary gaze, "It's worth it. Trust me." I didn't trust him, but I let him lead me down the hallway anyways. Both of us were not wearing any shoes; my toes were prickling against the stone floors and he was in his socks, somehow not slipping everywhere on the slick surfaces.

We reached the second floor and he pulled me through the ballroom doors. His piercing eyes trained on me as I squinted around the dark room in a slightly delusional state. We stopped in the middle of the room and a chill suddenly ran down my spine, as if something horrible had happened there before that I couldn't place.

He raised his wand and a slight glow emerged on the tip. I watched as his eyes became almost a bright neon blue in the light of it. From above out of the darkness a ballet dress floated down, and he held it carefully in his arms as it landed. It was the very fabric I had sliced up a month ago on the floor of his bedroom, now suddenly perfectly composed into the most beautiful ballet dress I'd ever seen.

He gestured to me to take it and I straightened it out in front of me, hardly containing my shock at the finished product. The multiple shades of bright blue and periwinkle were incredibly merged, and the bust was perfectly swan-like. I stuttered on my words, opening and closing my mouth unsure of how to respond.

"Draco...thank you." I finally whispered in a deeply sentimental tone. I sucked on my bottom lip in awe of the dress.

"Hilda helped me," he admitted, his eyes fell to the floor as though he couldn't handle looking at me. "I'm not pleased about the marks on the floor, but I know how much dancing means to you."

I hugged it close to my body and spun on the spot. The fabric swirled outwards with my twists and I smiled gleefully at the perfect motion it imbued. I wanted to put it on immediately.

He smirked at my reaction and scratched at his neck, "Good." It was all he said, his eyes following my delighted form like a laser. Once again, his entire personality had changed. The whiplash was unprecedented.

"I've realized something else," he started, suddenly looking uncomfortable. I stopped spinning a few feet away and gave him a confused look, half expecting him to hurl from his expression. He inhaled sharply, "You're...quite sensitive, with men."

I used my palm to rub at one dry eye and failed to contain a loud giggle, "Are you jealous because you saw my last boyfriend?" My blunt inquisition drifted mercilessly between us.

The ballroom was soaking in moonlight, all of the curtains having been pulled aside to allow the pale blue moon to invade the darkness. Wingback chairs stood to the sides of the main area like disinterested witnesses to our meeting in the center.

He shot daggers at me, "You could say that." I realized as he stood there in his hoodie and joggers that he was just a young person not unlike myself, hopelessly trying to figure out how to navigate his emotions without a single form of support.

"Well et es your own fault for looking," I gave him a flirty frown, fighting back laughing at his growing scowl.

His eyes narrowed at me, glittering in the moonlight. "Do you morn for that type of affectation?" he questioned in a serious tone. He was entirely possessive and bitter from where he stood, his arms now folded defensively across his chest.

I nearly burst out laughing at the notion that he felt in any way concerned. He'd arguably been abusive and rude to me, rough in bed and absent for most of our reunion - was there even a question that there was a difference between him and any other man I'd been with?

I knew I must've looked locked away in the memory of my last partner as I sighed, considering how it had felt to be with him in comparison. The rush, the innocence, how we'd compassionately touched each other. He'd been respectful and had courted me properly, showing up at my home with flowers and always opened doors for me. My parents had approved of the pureblood pairing and I'd hoped he would go on to become my future husband. I could still see his shaggy, dirty blond curls and forest green eyes in my mind.

It suddenly occurred to me that in my only remaining memories it had been perhaps two months since I'd last been with him. The memory of Lucas was indeed fresh in my mind and I had thought of him in the past few weeks. In reality it was much, much longer than two months, it was more than two years. Draco's jealousy suddenly made sense given that he was likely considering this timeline.

Although to be fair, Draco was far more handsome and his authoritative demeanor and rough physical affection was incredibly addictive. He had something no one else did. He filled me sparks of fear, excitement and rage.

I half heartedly smiled at Draco, then faced downwards as the heat rose up my neck, "Yes, I do sometimes miss dat style of intimacy." I kicked at the carpet now feeling ridiculous for having to clarify it. I didn't dare look at him as it was silent between us. I clutched the ballet dress against my chest as though it would somehow protect me from any back lash he might exercise; perhaps he would slap me the way he had done upon my arrival, when the possibility of infidelity had been unanswered.

"You know I can never give you that," he complained, "I'm already too gentle with you." 

I gaped at him humorously, "Already too gentle wit' me? What es your idea of rough?" 

His eyes glinted devilishly as he smirked, "You don't want to know." I knew my eyes were wide and my eyebrows were high in disbelief. 

"I pity you den, never knowing what et is to make love properly," I said in a benign tone. I carelessly started to strip in front of him, intending to put on my ballet dress and antagonize him with my naked body. 

He didn't flinch when my slip hit the floor. His eyes were all over my skin like a predator but he remained standing a few feet away, arms crossed, completely composed. Ignoring my internal embarrassment I tugged the ballerina dress up and pulled the zipper shut. It was lethally tight but looked absolutely incredible, my breasts pushed up high and my waist accentuated, glittery gold sparkles shone along the taught skirt that was composed of so many hues of bright blue.

I took a running start and twirled effortlessly, then arched my hands and pushed up onto my toes with expertise. I jumped and swung my arms. The unexplained floating of my dress and hair began again as my body buzzed with magical energy, and it felt like I was moving in slow motion. I was like silk under the ocean, making intricate movements while my golden hair whirled around and behind me. I threw my head back and came down onto my knee before pushing back up into the dance, spinning gracefully.

He watched me with his head tilted to the side, looking incredibly forlorn all of a sudden. There was a deep and dangerous longing in his expression; he was reminiscing something from ages ago as I pranced around the room, delighted in the dress he'd made for me.

I ran towards him high on magical energy and flung myself into him. He took two steps back as I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I leaned back and pulled his jaw with both hands and our lips collided. My hair floated around us as we kissed passionately and his fingers dug into my back. I paused long enough to pant against his lips, "Dance wit me, Draco."

He immediately broke down and whimpered against my forehead like I had just admitted to murdering his family. I wasn't sure what to make of the unexplained, agonized reaction - perhaps it was linked to an event from the past. I let myself fall slowly down to my tip toes between his feet and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. His tears were warm on my cheeks as we slowly kissed; the very example of the sweet and gentle love he allegedly wasn't able to provide.

After what felt like a lifetime I pulled away from him and tugged his hands backwards. He let me guide him looking like a broken puppy dog, his eyes traced my face as I forced his hand on my waist and brought his other one up in mine. "Dance wit me," I whispered. 

We waltzed elegantly, reluctantly, standing with no space between us. I rested my head in his neck and closed my eyes. His warm breath was on my cheeks and my heart was aching with joy that he hadn't let Lucius poison him back into the vicious boy I'd first met. His heartbeat was in my ear, rapid and anxious and I wondered if he was feeling the enchantment that I was.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he whispered into my hair, "It's dangerous." His voice vibrated in his chest against my head.

"I know you love me," I whispered back, my voice shaking with nervousness.

He sighed heavily, blowing air down across my face. "You're wrong," He said darkly, confidently, "That's why this is dangerous. You're catching feelings."

I sighed into his sweater and my voice came out tiny and strained, "So are you." My heart was jamming against my ribs violently as the rejection in his words broke it.

He stopped moving suddenly stiffening, "No. I'm just trying to keep you sane and stable." He stepped back and dropped his hands, his face had become blank again, "We need to go upstairs and...try to get you pregnant again." He looked at me with a serious expression.

I closed my eyes and willed myself not to cry. He had in all fairness warned me at the very beginning not to get attached, despite sending me hoards of mixed signals. Perhaps I was just being an immature girl, desperately wanting to believe he could love me again.

I followed him out of the ballroom as he bent to scoop up my night slip. We went back to the bedroom in heavy silence, my heart ached the entire journey and I tried not to look at him. I knew he could sense my anguish from my injured expression when he closed the door. He tried to avoid looking at me as well, and walked around blowing out all of the candles, dodging the multitude of potted plants around the perimeter of the room with grunts of annoyance.

"Must these all be in our room?" He asked after tripping on a particularly large pot.

I was sitting on the bed cross legged in the tiny ballet dress. "Dey make me happy," I muttered in a whiny voice.

"I'm told that you have built yourself a garden outside of my father's office window and he is incredibly displeased," he snorted in a slightly bemused tone as he wandlessly commanded the drapes closed.

He didn't push the topic any further as he approached me, the room now a raven hue. He'd closed the thick curtains for the first time ever and I could hardly see him in the blackness. He tugged off his sweater to expose his fit body, and I noticed new scars had appeared on his pale skin. He sent me a steely glance, "You need to take that off. Now." He gestured to the ballet dress and I swallowed, not in the mood to have sex with him immediately after being emotionally rejected.

I stood and slowly unzipped it with jittery fingers as he got naked in front of me as well, "Can we try to be gentle?" I begged as he pushed his body against mine, rubbing my back to calm me. We stood naked in each other's arms in the darkness.

"Again, not a great idea," he whispered against my hair. 

I moaned, hugging him desperately, "Please-please. I don't care if et es insincere." 

"What good will that do?" he complained in a raspy voice. I could feel his lips moving against my forehead, "You'll just get emotional again, and so will I."

"I promise I won't," I said, tugging at his back hungrily. I looked up at his eyes in the darkness and he stared down at me over his pointy nose. 

He pushed my hair away from my face as he evaluated my emotional state, "I don't trust either of us, but... I guess we can try it. Sure. Are you going to be alright to do this tonight?" I nodded.

He lifted me back onto the bed and used his hand to push my leg to the side, bent at an 'A' shape and roughly held it there with strong fingers. His face was hovering over mine as he grew hard against my entrance, grinding gently. I felt myself getting wet from the contact and a throbbing appeared in my abdomen. His breathing was starting to become ragged against mine and I felt sweaty and dizzy, hardly able to see him at all. He started to penetrate me as my body quivered and opened up to him.

He paused his movement, now fully inside of me. We were both gasping back and forth from the rising arousal. I could tell he was trying to control himself and bend to my desires for gentleness. I pushed our lips together and he stopped again, now sweating on me.

"If we're doing it this way, then there can be no kissing. It's not a discussion," his voice was light and desperate, he was breathing hard against my face. He started moving again and my throbbing increased dramatically. 

He buried his face in my neck and I could feel his pointy nose poking into my shoulder. He moved slowly with a burning sexual heat. We were both groaning loudly and I trailed my fingers across his skin, down his neck and his spine. He whispered curse words into my hair as the careful rhythm between ours bodies began to match and intensify.

It was completely unique to our previous sessions and I closed my eyes as my cries of pleasure grew more rowdy and uneven, thoroughly enjoying what could now be described as love making. As my organism peaked and I became tighter and tighter around him I slipped up, "Draco...Draco..." I pled erotically in his ear.

He shocked me by pushing his soft lips against mine, just hardly and his tongue danced into my mouth tenderly. He came finally, and when he'd finished shuddering he rolled off of me, cursing in an irked tone at his failure to avoid kissing. He moved as far away from me as he could and fell asleep with his back to me. 


	12. ﴾ A Quick Fix ﴿

Another week had passed at the Malfoy Manor and it was now the beginning of May. Nothing significant had happened per se - Draco and I had considerably flat lined our drama and begun to operate around each other in quiet submission. The words he had enforced in the darkness of the ballroom had impacted my hopes of reconnecting with him in order to make my imprisonment more bearable. I had instead decided to simply shut down my emotions and be obedient. I effortfully did not pester the other inhabitants of the home as I went about my hobbies in the background. The Manor was consistently silent as though abandoned, and I rarely saw Narcissa or the elves in the expansive superstructure. It was as though I was existing in the astral realm, not able to see the living around me, floating around as if to haunt the place in beautiful pastel dresses.

He spent his days away from the house trying to chase Harry Potter down, often times coming home looking dirty, angry or tired and at odd hours. He refused to tell me any information about the war whatsoever. I learned very quickly to stop pressuring him when one night he reached his limit with the questions and punched a hole in the wall of our bedroom. What was most burning in my thoughts was how Lucius had suggested Harry was fond of me. I wanted to know what that history was all about. I was also curious as to the importance of the person named Granger dying, but these topics seemed to enrage Draco more than anything else. He was evidently filled with anger, pain and resentment towards his father for whatever he was being made to do but he forbid any form of offered support.

So I left him alone. I saw him late at night when we would carry out the routine, almost wordlessly now. It had become drastically more bearable and even pleasurable as Draco demonstrated his willingness to be gentle with me, in exchange for my promise not to kiss him. After the first night's failure on his part he held up his resolve quite well at avoiding my face, simply burying his in my neck. The agreement provided an odd sense of team work, and it prevented episodes of adversity or crying.

During the days I established a schedule to maintain my sanity and wellbeing. I would read for several hours in the morning in the gigantic and ancient library, trying to understand the history of the British Sacred 28 families more profoundly. I read about the history of the Death Eaters, the dark lord, Hogwarts, Harry Potter, wandless magic... anything I could get my hands on that might strengthen my skills in the current predicament.

I learned that the powers Neville had been suggesting I was developing previously were in fact linked to ancestral Veela traits including the wandless blue flames when angry, and another horrifying idea that they used to morph into lethal half-bird half-human creatures. This part especially terrified me at the notion that I could evolve, but the texts suggested that the morphology abilities had long been bred out for hundreds of years. The flames however, were still seen in recent times by pure blood lines. The fact that they would only appear when I was angry or distressed eased my mind slightly, knowing that I wasn't entirely at fault for not having conjured anything yet.

Another notable ability was that of seduction which I had already known about. My mother had always stressed how I had to be careful with men; that I would always be mesmerizing and intoxicating, able to get my way no matter what, even break hearts dramatically from a stare or cause men to react in ways that might embarrass them. Although this power too was slowly fading in our blood line, I had certainly used this to my advantage my entire life - taking whatever boys I wanted as mine. The fact that dancing was one of my natural instincts was not shocking either as the texts clearly described this method being used by Veela as a way to draw in unwary men for the kill in ancient magical wars. It wasn't that surprising that I had thought chasing after Malfoy would be an easy and noncommittal achievement.

When I was done reading I would snap my fingers and call for Nibbles to help me in the gardens. She and I had begun to form somewhat of a functioning relationship. Over the past month of working with her enough time had passed for me to study and predict her biting compulsions. She was so incredibly filled with anxiety from abuse that she had refined a nervous out lash in the form of biting that seemed to relieve whatever was pent up inside. I'd started to talk to her quite loquaciously, asking her about what made her happy, what she liked to dream about, her favorite foods. Slowly, achingly, she'd stopped biting me altogether. She was now becoming calm and reassured, and would appear at my call with a slight smile on her face for our afternoon sessions in the sunlight.

I told her about my memories as a young Parisian girl on the golden Mediterranean coastline. I would surf and swim for hours. The men were gorgeous and tanned, the air sweet and salty. Fantastic champagnes and incredible local wines, truffles and brie cheese, cigars at night... It had been luxurious and thrilling. I had a stern but loving family. They were high class and expected much out of me, but our estate had been bright and inviting and filled with friends constantly. I was now regretting how unbelievably stubborn and reckless I had always been, which had led to me being sent to Hogwarts as punishment, and coincidentally had led to me being stuck in the mopey country side of England as a prisoner to a corrupted family.

Most of the gardens around the house were chalk-full of forgotten magical plants now covered in brambles and weeds. I started by separating them carefully and moving them to my originally cleared plot, which I now knew was below Lucius' office window. Before approaching the garden plot I would strategically bend down and peer my eyes in through the window to verify that he was not inside. Nibbles was very noisy and talkative and I had to shush her many times as I cleared us to safely garden. I would have to check the window constantly throughout the day, dreading the notion of looking up to him suddenly leering at me from behind the glass like a wicked viper.

I chose plants to focus on that were strategic and that I could possibly use to my advantage later if I needed to. Sneezewort, for improving spellcasting through Strong Invigoration Drought. Aconite, for a Wide-Eye Potion to keep me awake if I needed it. While on a walk with Nibbles one day I found an abnormally and quite frankly shocking amount of Fluxweed and Knotgrass growing in a small forest nearby, and we had spent a few hours moving some back to the plot. These were helpful for not only producing Polyjuice Potion, but also for brewing alcohol which could be amusing if Draco continued to prohibit me from drinking. And finally we moved a few Fanged Geraniums to the front of the plot because they were simply aesthetic. There was a Venomous Tentacula on the western side of the building that I was dying to have in the plot. But without magic it would be impossible to try and move, and although Nibbles had her magic she was far too nervous to agree to move it for me. I decided not to force her as she stood tearing in front of me at the suggestion.

Then my days would conclude with me taking a bath in the ridiculous clawfoot tub with far too many bubbles up around my neck. I had begged Draco to get me a variety of vanity and self care products that he'd begrudgingly come home with piece by piece. The thought of him going into fancy shops for women had - on more than one occasion - caused me to break out into fits of hysterical laughter when I found them at my sink in the bathroom. I now had the finest moisturizers and perfumes and glittery body oils. He didn't seem to care what I requested and never complained about the price, just groaned at the idea of actually having to pick it up from the embarrassment.

From there I would put on my ballet dress and dance until it was late and dark outside, the large glass arched windows that spanned three stories would cast columns of moonlight into the massive hall. It was peaceful and private, and I longed for those moments all day. My magic would be insanely high and energized by the time I came back to the bedroom and it would lead me into the night time routine feeling confident and prepared.

The first evening of May I came back to the room and changed into my night gown to read until he came home. I was sitting curled up in Draco's throne-line desk chair when the door opened. I expected it to be him so I didn't look up immediately from my text on wandless magic.

I heard someone cough and as I lifted my eyes I noticed there was three people in the room; Draco, followed by Narcissa closing the door, and Dr. Hallewell approaching me like I was a feral animal. Draco looked nervous and pale in his black Death Eaters robes and he spared me a mysterious, sympathetic look. Dr Hallewell held his hands out in a gesture of creepy friendliness at my now worried face, "Mrs. Malfoy, how lovely to see you again. I see you're quite healthy since last we spoke." His beard now had shiny blue beads woven into the long braid, and he was wearing a pristine white suit. He looked like he was heading to the horse races.

I stood from the chair and my eyes flickered between the Doctor that I had come to despise seeing and Draco for help. He swallowed when he saw how scared I was and just looked away down at the floor with a guilty expression. His hands were in his pockets which I recognized as being defensive.

"What es going on?" I inquired in a tiny, unfriendly voice, slowly lowering the opened book onto the desk.

Narcissa stepped forward a few steps looking dictational, her milky white hands clasped appropriately before her pitch black dress, "Dr. Hallewell needs to check your fertility, Madeleine. This is not an event of endangerment or humility." Her voice was silken and womanly, assuring even. She gave me a slight, very quick flash of a forced smile.

"Yes girl, go and lie on your bed then. This won't take long," Dr. Hallewell pointed at the four-poster bed and I walked across the room and laid down feeling completely dizzy. I had never considered myself to be infertile, but what if I was? Would they cast the killing spell on me immediately? Would they force me to work in the house like a useless slave? Feed me to the dark lord?

The Doctor pulled up a spare chair next to me and began casting diagnostic spells over my abdomen. The entire time he was performing the spells I glued my eyes to Draco, who was still looking straight down at the floor across the room, obviously concerned. All I could see was his nose and long eyelashes. Was there something he knew that I didn't?

The Doctor suddenly frowned and tilted his head at the shimmering colors forming above me. "I see what the problem is, Narcissa." He sighed and placed a beefy hand on his knee, removed his spectacles and twisted to look at her, "She's perfectly fertile. She has a pregnancy prevention charm cast over her. Most young witches do these days, it's no surprise. A quick fix."

He swung his wand around and one of the colors completed vanished into the air like dust in the wind. Draco was now watching with an odd look on his face, "She was obliviated. Probably had it beforehand and didn't know it was there." Narcissa nodded, looking relieved.

I was confused, because I'd removed the charm myself when Lucas had broken up with me. On my way to Hogwarts I didn't have it on, and I would frequently remove it at the slightest of dry spells with boys. It tended to make me overtly emotional and irrational. My eyes were searching in front of me as though reading an invisible glyph, when Draco cleared his throat again and I met his gaze. He had a serious warning expression now.

"That should do it Narcissa. Always a pleasure," Doctor Hallewell smiled as he stood and they left the room.

I sat up with my heart beating rapidly as Draco removed his robes and threw them at the desk. I had known that the chance of becoming pregnant was greater every day, but it had just been reinforced in my mind and I was terrified all over again. I put my hand on my forehead as if to check my temperature, "Draco, I don't want to be pregnant."

He sighed from where he was now sitting at the desk, looking out the window, "I know." He offered no other response, just sat there with his fingers pressed against his lips.

I continued on as I stared at the ceiling paneling, "I swear et, I did not know about de prevention charm." Would he punish me? Was he planning on ways to do it? Perhaps the moment had finally come for me to be thrown in the dungeons for insolence.

He leaned forward and put his hands on his forehead, elbows to the mahogany desk. He pushed up the fluffy platinum hair and covered his eyes. "I know, Madeleine," was all he said, once again and sounding annoyed now. He was practically stonewalling me and I started to feel resentful at his absence in the conversation.

"'ow could you know dat?" I spat, frustrated, "ef I didn't even know."

His head whipped around to face me and his eyes were burning with rage, "Because I put it there! That's why!"

My eyes widened to saucers. I was so dumbfounded I simply sat there blinking at his seething expression, trying to process the controversial information. The Lionspurt on his desk chose the most inopportune moment to act up and clamped down on the sleeve of his dress shirt, causing his gaze to turn away from me. "What is this fucking thing doing inside the house?" He fumed at it and fought against the plants teeth with a growl, ripping his sleeve in the process. He stood from the desk clearly disinterested in being in the plant's proximity and tugged his torn shirt off.

I pulled my knees up to my chest as he changed into a long sleeve and sweatpants. "Why? Why?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me, now completely dressed causally and ran his fingers through his hair to shake out all of the gel that had been formally holding it in place. He looked like he'd just gotten off of a soccer field in his athletic clothing, "I did it because neither of us want to be pregnant. On the contrary, if you don't get pregnant than you'll be forced to partake in far worse things. I thought I could buy some time until Potter was eliminated. Unfortunately, my father sees right through everything I do."

I slumped my chin down onto my knees and shut my eyes. I supposed it all made sense, but one thing was bothering me still, "Why make me 'ave sex every night pointlessly den?" Had he just convinced me to do it for his own pleasure? The thought of it threatened to deepen the width of the chasm that had already developed between us.

He looked impatient as though the answer should've already been obvious, "Because if anyone were to invade either of our minds, do you really think they wouldn't check that? And it's a good thing we have been because that's already happened to me, twice." He shook his head and rolled his eyes like I was an imbecile for even asking.

I pressed my lips into a thin line in defeat. He was totally right, and I couldn't object to any of it. But if it was this much distraction and trouble to deal with me when he didn't even want the so-called heir, and he claimed to have no feelings for me, than why not just let me endure the far worse things? 

Unbeknownst to him, I was aware of what the alternative was. To act as some kind of double agent by using my charm on Harry, who clearly had a proclivity towards me. This, actually when thought of, was much more alluring and freeing. I could work with Harry to figure out which side meant more to me and possibly break away from the Malfoy's altogether.

I hadn't had much exposure to the other side of the war. All I knew was two days spent with the resistance, who'd been less than friendly for now obvious reasons. And besides that, I had just been trapped at the Malfoy Manor, manipulated, threatened and treated like an unwanted pet.

He was studying my face now from where he was standing, frozen, suspicious. "What are you contemplating?"

My heart lurched as I turned to face him, "What are de far worse tings? Why not just rid yourself of me and send me out to dat?" I fought the frown that tugged at my facial muscles, "You 'ave made it clear you don' care about me. Why waste your precious time wit' me?"

He raised an eyebrow with a stern expression. His eyes flicked around my face as though the answer would be written in fine print there. Finally he just came and sat next to me on the bed, and gave me a serious look, "It would be dishonorable for my family reputation to sink that low. It would mean having you out there _spying_ in filthy settlements on The Order. I don't have to care about you, just because I don't want my wife running around like a _savage_ with Potter. Can you imagine the pleasure it would afford him?" He looked suddenly inflamed by the words coming out of his mouth.

I was glaring, feeling a spiteful surge rising in my chest. He was unbelievably selfish then, to have subjected me to torment from his family just so he could maintain his pride with his enemy. For all he knew, not sending me out to spy on Potter was costing him the war. "At least wit' 'im it would not be forced," I bitterly spat.

The murder in his eyes was blinding as he slowly turned his gaze on me, inhaling sharply. I was almost certain he was going to kill me and I froze, completely petrified mere feet from him. His nostrils flared and the lines between his eyebrows were so deep he looked maleficent beyond description. He spoke lowly through barred teeth, "I'll show you what rape _actually_ looks like if you _ever_ suggest something like that again." Every word was soaked in acid and I was frightful that he really meant it. His face was so contorted from the notion he was almost unrecognizable.

Without the pregnancy prevention charm on however, I was feeling less emotional and more bold. He had pulled the last straw in my compassion for him, and I was returning to my normal state of reckless character already. I foolishly pushed him further in a shaky voice, "It is just a shame dat I was obliviated. For all I know 'arry was my true love. Maybe he was better dan you in every way."

It took him milliseconds to slap me so hard my head spun completely to the side, and tears instantly formed in my eyes from the force of it. I let my hair hide my face as I stayed there, gasping softly, afraid to meet his gaze. The gravity of what he'd just done on an angry whim hung in the air between us as we both breathed rapidly.

He eventually left the bed in a snarl and I heard the door slam shut to the room. My face was flaming from where he'd hit me without mercy. I reached my fingers up as I wept gently from the physical abuse. I took in a deep, angry breath and exhaled in grief, begging myself not to give in to fully crying. 

I stood and wiped at the bristling tears, deciding that I would go to the garden to gather supplies for potions that would allow me to sneak around the house at night. I felt suddenly determined and impatient, despite the late hour of the night. I pulled on my boots and a long shimmery blue cloak, and grabbed a tiny satchel. I tugged the massive hood over my golden locks, preparing to sneak out into the night.


	13. ﴾ We're Going Gardening ﴿

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: If you are squeamish to gore or horror, maybe skip this one.

I snapped my fingers, "Nibbles!" I cried in a tight voice, still reeling from the slap to my face. A popping noise next to me made me jump slightly in my still nervous state. She looked up at me with big, concerned eyes, "Mrs. Malfoy is hurt! What is been happening to Mrs. Malfoy? What should-"

I cut off her typical rambling with a wave of my hand, "Nibbles, et is fine. Mr. Malfoy and I 'ad a fight. I said some tings I probably should not 'ave." I smiled weakly at her, knowing my face was probably a horrifying scarlet red on one side.

She played with her bandaged fingers nervously and I was afraid that she would cave to the urge to bite under the distressing circumstances. I moved my hands into the pockets of my cloak just in case. "Mrs. Malfoy wants Nibbles to comfort her?" She asked looking tearful and unsure of why she had been summoned.

"No, Nibs. We're going gardening," I stated, removing one hand gingerly to pat her head softly. Her ears went down with the wanted affection and she smiled as though she was a cat being cuddled in a warm bed. She followed me out into the halls and I rolled my eyes at her loud chatting, gripping my lantern before my face.

"Mrs. Malfoy is still the prettiest lady Nibbles is ever being seen. The master will be saying sorry, Nibbles is sure of it. The master is very protective of Mrs. Malfoy, he is always talking about the things Mrs. Malfoy is been wanting, and-" I spun to shush her loudly, as several paintings in the dark hallway had woken up and starting complaining in bleary protest. If they left to their sister portrait frames in the house and warned the other Malfoy's that we were wandering around after nine pm it would not be a happy ending.

"You need to whisper, Nibs," I cautioned and she nodded. I winced, not really trusting her to remember to be quiet as we continued moving. "Besides," I whispered back to her, "Mr. Malfoy is not protective of me." I said it with distaste.

Nibbles suddenly looked shaky and upset at the argument. We were now on the second floor landing when she rapidly blurted, "No! The master is being so fond of his Madeleine. He is always asking if you is being happy when he is away."

I stopped and put the lantern down, wrapping my hand around her tiny mouth. It was a risky move because if she was ever going to bite it was at that moment. "Nibbles, if you don't whisper, we are going to both be reprimanded badly for being out of bed after hours." I gave her a desperate look and slowly moved my hand back.

"Okay," she said in a breathy little tone and I nodded, feeling bad that it had to be that way. If we were the only two inhabitants of the building than I'd let her shout everything she said without a care in the world. But heavens knew where Malfoy had run off to. He could be in any room on any level and he was in an exceptionally foul mood from my hurtful words.

Outside of the Manor fog clung low to the damp landscape and it was cold. Hedges barely a few meters away were difficult to see. The icy-moist temperatures instantly penetrated my cloak and I felt terrible for Nibbles that I couldn't give her anything better to wear than an old potato sac. If I did free her, it would surely mean the death of both of us. 

Nibbles wasn't the type to survive in the wild anyways, and she was better off being assigned as my elf. None of the Malfoy's seemed to ever want to see her and Narcissa had made it clear that Nibbles would only cook and be my elf from then on, evidently thinking she'd found a way to dispose of the elf from her own life. Nibbles' bandages were getting thinner by the day and some had been removed entirely as her body healed in my presence. I was proud of her progress and her increasing mental and physical health.

We drifted around the tall manor as Nibbles rambled about not being able to find one her favorite cooking pans that day. She was apparently convinced that Gardie, a stout and apathetic elf whom I'd only seen once when I'd gone to get the thick knife to cut my dress, had stolen it and hid it from her. "Hmm," was all I said in a tired hum, not really paying attention.

My mind was preoccupied with the look on Draco's face when I'd suggested that anything had happened between Harry and myself. Had something happened? Was that why he was so upset and resentful about the concept? And was he being serious that he would rape me if I kept talking about it? I'd never seen him so livid and I couldn't stop the endless questions from dancing in my mind. Questions that would naturally never be answered as I was constantly in the dark with him.

Additionally I was already beginning to feel more clear headed from the pregnancy prevention charm being gone. He'd burned me badly this time, and I was acutely aware of how selfish his motives were. It wasn't just as simple as running for hours to escape him. It would take all of my wits to figure out what to do next. If I stayed at the Manor now, without the protection of the charm, I'd be pregnant and the chains would be around my ankles and wrists forever.

I lowered the lantern when we were halfway across the back side of the Manor walls. I put it on the ground and turned to Nibbles on my heals, "Okay Nibs, just like every other time, we need to be careful incase Lucius is in 'is office. I need you to pick me some Aconite while I check de window. Got it?"

She nodded at me with big eyes of admiration. She loved being in my presence and it warmed my heart. I pet her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes where she liked it the most. I left the lantern behind in the pathway as we crept cautiously towards the garden plot, and I mentally scorned myself for having put it under the most dangerous windowsill of the entire property.

We approached and Nibbles went down onto her tiny hands and knees, disappearing amongst the many sleeping magical plants to gather the Aconite. I was practically folded in half as I neared the window, then flattened myself against the building. I pulled my hood back enough to peer an eye into the window and to my horror, Lucius was inside at his desk. Across from him, Narcissa and Draco were standing. They were having some kind of messed up family meeting and I was smack dab in the riskiest position outside of the window.

"-and I have reached the limits of my patience, boy. How it is you did not think to check her for pre-existing charms is beyond my forgiveness." Lucius said in a singsong voice with steepled hands before his eyes.

Narcissa's gaze fell to Draco and she showed him sympathy I'd never seen on her face before. She was always cold and callous towards me, like a mosquito that refused to leave her home and kept her awake at night.

She turned to Lucius who was positively boiling with anger in his chair like a cauldron about to erupt. His blue eyes were like bullets on his family members, "Lucius, Draco has been pre-occupied with the dark lord's work. He has been doing his duties on all fronts. We should consider this overlook a minor setback. The girl will not resist expectancy now that the charm is lifted."

Lucius sat forward at breakneck speed like a striking python and I silently jumped. "He has become emotional again, I can _smell it_ from here," he sliced. Draco's bottom lip trembled with fear and his eyebrows expressed that he was filled with dread. "I _will_ address this if nothing changes. She _will_ be whored out to Potter if it is what must be done. You can place your _precious_ protection charm on her then, and when you get her back all used up from Potter you can continue on with this ridiculous circus of pretending to impregnate her."

Narcissa gaped at the vulgarities, looking like she was searching for the right words. Both of them stood closer together as if Lucius was a wild bear that had gotten into the house.

Completely off of cue Nibbles crawled out of the garden near my toes with fistfuls of Aconite and a gleeful look on her face, "Nibbles brings Aconite!" She said it far too loudly and my heart dropped in my chest several painful octaves. It was a mere fraction of time, but before I could duck down Draco's eyes darted straight to the window and met mine. Then I was down on my hands and feet, running away along the span of the building like a dog with too long of back legs, Nibbles not far from my ankles matching my ridiculous posture unnecessarily.

When we'd made it almost a dozen meters down the building and I felt safe enough to stand and run I made a break for it, hopping through the areas of abandoned gardens frantically. Nibbles had no trouble following along in the gaps of the underbrush. I reached the edge and fought a magical plant that had decided to try and steal my cloak. I was tugging in a frenzy when it finally gave up the argument and I spun away from it, just barely catching my balance before running smack into Draco. He had been watching my quarrel with the plant with crossed arms and I had literally bounced off of his chest.

I looked up at him, panting from running and with no explanation.

He snorted at me with a wicked look on his features right before grabbing my wrist and we were disapparating. We reappeared in a dark room that had deep echoing noises and dripping sounds. I was still breathing jaggedly and turned on the spot, blind in the darkness, trying to identify anything at all. It was freezing and the stench of death and decay was incredibly vivid. I nearly hurled from the reek as my feet sunk into a sludge-like ground.

I felt him drop my wrist but it was so dark I couldn't even see his face, "I told you this day would come. Enjoy your time down here. I'll be back when I think you've earned your freedom." There was another crack and I coughed from the satanic smoke left behind in his wake.

I was finally in the dungeons, probably because he'd mistaken my presence outside of the office as intentional eavesdropping. If I had just been patient enough to wait until the morning to garden I wouldn't be down there at all. Now he was the one who got to sleep all alone peacefully in the bedroom while I would be struggling to avoid touching the slimy floor.

I heard a signature pop and Nibbles' tiny voice echoed around the cavernous dungeons, "Nibbles is deeply sorry Mrs. Malfoy. Nibbles has bitten herself twice as much as usual in punishment."

I coughed and heaved, trying to shut my nostrils from the burning reek of the air. The Death Eater smoke had brought my mood down to a very low and sad place and I was trying to banish the temporary negative feelings, "Nibbles, can you cast some light?" I wheezed through a tight throat.

A tiny orb suddenly appeared behind me and I turned to see her big green eyes in the darkness, "Nibbles is so sorry Mrs. Malfoy-"

"Stop, stop calling me that. Please just call me Madeleine," I fumed at her. She nodded. "What 'appened wasn't your fault," I reassured her with lies, not wanting her to harm herself for no reason.

"Can you cast light all around de room?" I asked in a feeble voice.

Nibbles avoided eye contact with me, looking suddenly uncomfortable, "Nibbles is not wanting Mrs. Madeleine to panic or be distressed. Mrs. Madeleine would be wise to hide against a corner until the Master returns-"

"Why would I panic? 'aving less light would make me panic more den 'aving more light, Nibs," I said sternly.

"Hmmmmm," Nibbles whined painfully, looking very weary.

"Do et," I bluntly commanded, "Light up de entire room."

She started tearing up as she raised her petite, thin fingers directly above her head, then clapped her hands together and upon releasing them dozens of orbs of light spread out like stars across the ceiling that seems to stretch endlessly under arched roofing. It was like a morbid galaxy of moldy bricks and pools of water had suddenly appeared.

I blinked, looking around with my hand clamped across my mouth. This was the best display Draco could've given me that he was truly heartless, having left me in such a horrible place. Nibbles was vividly crying next to me, tugging on my cloak as I teared up myself.

There were bodies scattered everywhere, strewn like paper plates in a public park and left to rot in pools of accumulating water. Rats were wriggling around, squeaking in barely audible conversations to each other as they gnawed at new and old flesh, climbing in and out of skulls and ribcages. The entire room was crawling with maggots, concentrated near the carcasses. The sound of crawling and screeching had me suddenly choking fearfully and heaving in sharp breaths of panic.

"Nibbles warned Mrs. Madeleine..." Nibbles was begging at my side and sobbing into my cloak. I stepped back, checked to see that the wall behind me was tame, clear of insects and bodies and pushed against it, pulling my hood over my head. My heart felt like it might explode from the terror of the caverns.

My eyes flickered from one body to another uncontrollably. The more I didn't want to look the more I looked, transfixed by the awful reality of what had been under our feet the entire time.

"Who-w-who are dese people?" I asked Nibbles in a trembling peep.

"They is The Order," Nibbles cried harder as her eyes followed mine around the room.

I howled loudly into my hand and fell down against the wall, hovering off of the floor by my ankles. I screamed emphatically and agonizingly, as though someone were stabbing me relentlessly. I screamed as loud as my voice would possibly allow it and until my throat began to rip, knowing they could all easily hear me from within the framework of the house. I wept and yelled and tried covering my eyes and ears to block out the sound of the consumption of deceased people all around me.

Finally after at least an hour of thunderous wailing I began to choke on the phlegm in my throat, wearing out and becoming numb inside. How could Draco do this? Was it all him, or him and his father? Was it the bodies that other Death Eater's had captured too, brought there as a shared graveyard?

I wept gently now, and my eyes began to get foggy from the amount of tears. To my horror my vision cleared and a skeleton across the room shook as a rat leapt from it's shoulder, drawing my attention. It was clad in a dirty Christmas sweater. The head of the skeleton tilted with the movement and long brown hair fell down over where it's eyes had been located in the now empty sockets. Neville.

The agony rose again and I screamed bloody murder once more. It had been down there below my feet for a month and a half, and I was the reason for it. He'd died because of me, and I had been up two floors dancing in a ballet dress like a fool over his bones.

I shoved my head back against the wall and pulled my hood directly over my face and tried to focus on breathing steadily. I slumped down into the mud, barely off of the ground by my boots and eventually lost consciousness in the upright position.

When I awoke again there was absolutely no way to tell how much time had passed. Perhaps a few hours, perhaps an entire day. The feast of the dead ensued around me and I turned and finally hurled violently.

"Mrs. Madeleine," Nibbles was still with me, bless her heart. I wiped at my face and turned to her with a broken look. "Nibbles is thinking we try to go to the locked room at the end of the chambers, where the Master hides his secret things. There's being no dead bodies in there."

I blanked at her, "What?" I asked hoarsely, "What secret room? What does 'e 'ide dere?"

"Nibbles is not knowing, Nibbles has never tried to break the lock," she confessed.

"Show me," I ordered her, wobbling to my feet pathetically. The caverns were filled with pools of black water, swirling with pieces of bodies and I lifted my cloak up high as we began tepidly making our way across the battlefield. The arched ceilings consistently met in the middles and came down into hundreds of stone pillars that formed a grid, making the space seem like multiple open, cube shaped rooms. The mud on the floor was extremely slippery with the slime and ooze of rotting bodies and I took very steady, independent steps to avoid an accident. As we chose the clearest paths around the bodies and pools I tried hard to avert my gaze from focusing on their lifelike poses; propped up against pillars as though still alive, watching. We walked for minutes until the bodies slowly became less frequent. The room narrowed into a stone tunnel.

Now that the carcasses and mud were behind me I exhaled deeply, pushing through how weak and dizzy I felt. The stone floor was hard below my boots and I was grateful for the ease of passage. Lined along the sides of the tunnel were small, barred cages. Six in total. Only one contained the remains of a long forgotten prisoner, who's bones were picked entirely clean and blackened from years of abandonment. And at the very end was a door with bars across it, wedged into a stone archway. The bars at the very top opened up to tiny slots and I peered on my tip toes into the room.

There was a massive, rectangular concrete table in the center with a large stone bowl of shiny liquid. White, gaseous vapors swirled out of it and flicked away into the air. The stone bowl had runes on the outside of it that I didn't recognize from any civilization. On the walls were shelves lined to the brim with tiny glimmering vials. There was a glass box in the farthest corner, and in it to my surprise, was floating a golden chain with a brightly glowing blue moonstone on the end. _My_ family heirloom. I tugged at the door vainly not knowing why I expected it to open and the metal shook in place in protest. Of course he would lock it. I screamed again as I eyed the precious and irreplaceable personal item that had been taken from me and locked in the deepest depths of hell.

"Nibbles is trying, but this magic is being very strong," I looked down from where my hands had been wrapped around the open bars tightly. She was standing next to me extending her hand towards the lock, a look of strong concentration on her little face.

I watched as she tried for a long time, and then breathed out in exhaustion. We both slumped down against the door, and I found myself hysterically laughing at the extremely horrible situation. I laughed like I'd been sent St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and specifically placed in the insane section.

Nibbles squirmed nervously next to me where her head was trying to rest on my bouncing shoulder. She tugged at my long hair that was sticking out of my cloak hood, "What is being so funny, Mrs. Madeleine?"

I wiped at my tears and slammed my head against the doorway, "Oh, everything Nibs. Everything."


	14. ﴾ Black or Blue ﴿

After my hysterical laughter died down, I looked at Nibbles feeling sick again and my tears glued themselves to my cheeks. I had a burning desire to get into the room behind our backs and retrieve my family moonstone.

"Should we...break in de old fashioned way?" I shrugged my shoulders and she looked at me with a puzzled look. Her spindly nose was dug into my cloak trying to cuddle, and her little fingers were wrapped around my forearm. She stared up at me with huge, skeptical eyes.

I pushed onto my bare knees gently coaxing her off and rotated to face the wooden and metal doorway, which was held up by the arched brickwork around it. The entry way was ancient and the bricks supporting the door were covered in moss and moisture. I picked up a loose stone from the floor below us that had a mildly jagged edge to it, and Nibbles watched, huddled next to me as I scraped it tenderly along the mortar of the brick directly adjacent to the lock. It dug a bright mark into the deep slate gray of the mortar. 

"Dis could work," I commented as I scraped again and again, digging deeper into the mortar. It was hours later when I had dug a solid crevice around the brick in question. 

I sat back on my butt and wiped at my brow, now freezing from the sweat forming in the icy temperatures of the dungeons. 

"Nibbles is worried the master will notice," Nibbles murmured from beside me as she analyzed my efforts to chip away at the brick's stability.

I pushed the brick back and forth in it's now unstable foundation, and it suddenly looked flush as usual, popping in and out precariously. I only needed to work on it for a few more hours before I could break in. I took a moment to pick up dirt from the floor in my fingers and scrubbed it along the mortar to conceal the fresh brightness of the scratching. "Look. Even if 'e comes, 'e won't know. And if 'e does come, you'd better disappear right away. 'E can't know you 'ave assisted me."

She nodded helplessly, looking extremely queasy about the instructions. 

I decided to stop there for the time being, and slumped against the bars of the nearest cage. It was relieving to be far away from the rotting corpses of the resistance, but I could still smell their decomposition from where I was. My eyes twitched as I struggled to sleep with Nibbles curled up in my lap. 

Visions began to swim before my eyes. I was running towards a large castle with towers in the distance. My feet pounded against an enormous brick bridge with arching pillars stretching below into a gorge. I ran, my hands outstretched as rage filled me in unprecedented volumes and my intense yelling echoed around me in the dream. I was a rocket of blue, fiery flames. A man that looked serpentine had just murdered someone very important to me - they fell like a discarded toy to the ground next to him. He had red, glowing eyes that lasered in on my movement. I was wiping out Death Eaters left and right with the expanding flames, scalding them into deep fried versions of themselves before they finally fell to the ground as charred remains.

My screaming blended into reality as I sat up in the dungeons once again, shouting helplessly in real life as I transitioned from dreaming to awake. Nibbles was no where to be seen, however her orbs of light on the ceilings remained, casting dim assistance. 

Instead of her comforting companionship I was instead greeted by Draco, who was leaning on the arched opening of the tunnel that led to where I was slumped against one of the jail cells. He watched my wailing gradually cease as tears rolled down from my eyes and I panted at him.

He was wearing a navy blue suit that formed against his athletic body perfectly. He looked skyward clearly amused, "You never fail to put on a show, Madeleine. I'm shocked you made it this far across the basement without passing out." He twirled his wand around his fingers, his blue eyes looked black in the dim lighting that Nibbles had supplied. He had no care in the world for what I now knew or had evidently witnessed.

I tugged my knees directly against my body and shut my eyes, shoving my face down into them. I didn't want to see him or acknowledge him. I sat there, shaking uselessly, until I felt his wand poke against my skull ruthlessly, "Get up," he demanded.

I rotated my face upwards so that the tip of the wand would rest directly between my eyes, glowering at his positively lethal profile, "Just kill me. Leave me to rot wit' de rest of your victims." My eyes bored into his grey ones as he stared at me with a hollow look. 

He smirked slightly, his lip pulling towards the side in hilarity, "You're not that crushed, Madeleine. You'll get over it. You're attendance is required tonight so you've been given a free pass this time." He reached out and snatched the thin shimmery blue cloak of my hood and we disapparated back into the shared bedroom. 

I collapsed onto the dark wooden floor unenthusiastically, hoping without rationale to die at random. I tugged the hood over my dirty face and laid there, pretending I had passed away from the trip through time and reality.

His foot collided with my ribs in a critical blow and I rolled aside, crying from the impact, "You will bathe and dress right now. I'm not in the mood for your nonsense tonight." He said it curtly and mercilessly. I pushed myself to a stand and teetered on the spot like a seesaw. I was starved and traumatized and barely existing. It took everything in me to look at him.

I wandered wordlessly to the bathroom, dragging myself along the wall where it was possible to do so. He'd left all of the potted plants in the room to my shock, and I had to sway around them as I made my way. 

Once I'd shut the door I drew warm water with lifeless eyes, wondering when Nibbles had left me in the dungeons and where she was now. The bath was incredibly inviting and I laid in the tub with my eyes shut for far too long. Finally when my entire body was complaining through the form of wrinkled fingers I forced myself to a stand as bubbles clung to my skin.

In the mirror I looked back into my darkened golden eyes while I toweled off. The bags below them were substantial and I appeared mortified. I was still gorgeous in my own right, but clearly broken. I gave myself one final glance of reassurance before opening the door again to the dragon that resided in the bedroom.

He was leaning against the four-post bed, eyeing his military watch with great concentration. He was perfectly refined, accomplished even in his tight navy suit and dark blue bow. Bright, straight hair fell over his face in his downward stare. It was entirely unfair that he was a murdering coward and could still pull off such an impeccable appearance.

I sniveled my nose at him in disgust as I made my way to my armoire. I paused with my arms hanging on the opened door, "What do you want me to wear?" I asked the question knowing he had a predisposed opinion and would enforce it anyway.

"Black or blue. Something dark. Just match me," he said vaguely, as he pressed on the buttons on his wrist. He didn't seem to care that I was even alive after being exposed to the horrific graveyard in the basement.

I tugged at a cobalt dress that had long sleeves and a trailing skirt. It would be appropriate in any setting and I would surely not be chastened for the choice. I dragged it behind me towards the bathroom as he commented, "You know you can change in front of me, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

I turned, clutching my towel and glared at him, "Fuck you". I spat the words viciously before shutting the bathroom door again. From the room beyond he laughed in ridicule.

Once I was changed and had brushed out my long hair, I sighed heavily and went back into the bedroom. He was in the same position and his bright blue eyes drifted upwards to take me in. He nodded in approval at my appearance.

"It's going to be a long night and you will say nothing unless addressed directly," he curtly instructed as I narrowed my eyes at him. He moved towards me and his open palm connected with my neck, his fingers squeezing threateningly into my jugular. His breath was on my lips as he spoke, "I will not tolerate any absurdity from you tonight, Madeleine, and neither will the dark lord." 

I sunk in his grasp, barely able to hold myself up from the sudden realization that I was about to meet Voldemort himself. His eyes searched my desperate and frightened face with practiced judgement. He sneered at me without pity, nodding his head mockingly, "Yes, that's right. He's here and you're going to behave."

I swallowed deeply and nodded. His hand slipped to my wrist and he was dragging me out the door and into the hallway. As we made our way down the double-sided main stairwell to the first floor, I began to feel separated entirely from my body. My ability to stay sentient and present in my reality was slipping away from me after everything I had been through in the past two months. We stopped abruptly before a large set of double doors and I had an inexplainable sense of Deja Vu.

He twirled me by tugging at my wrist again and I faced him lifelessly. My eyelids hung low and I knew I appeared deadpan. My personality had erased itself on the journey down the stairs in a defensive measure. His face was inches from mine as he leaned close to me and looked deep into my eyes, searching for anything.

It was an aggravatingly long pause before he looked away seemingly satisfied, and shoved the door open compelling me inwards by his grip. We were in the massive dining hall that I'd found much earlier in the year. The fire in the monstrously tall hearth was lit, crackling gleefully to the right. A ridiculously long dining table made out of dark wood stretched across the rectangular room and it was jammed to the brim save for two seats reserved for Draco and I on the closest corner.

He pulled my chair out and I obediently sat. He dropped next to me and straightened his spine, looking down at the wood. I had caught a glimpse of the man seated at the head of the table down the way briefly in our rapid shuffle to our seats, and he was the exact same serpentine man from my nightmare in the dungeons. I stared at the wood as well, trying not to panic from the impossible coincidence. My hands were fidgeting in my lap with the texture of my dress.

"Draco, how kind of you to join us this evening with your... lovely wife," A creepy voice slithered down the table from the man. The Death Eaters around the room laughed maniacally, one female with long messy curls sounded perfectly insane. I was fidgeting so hard with the fabric of my clothing that it must've been obvious because I felt Draco's large, warm hand clamp down on mine, holding them tightly to still the motion.

Lucius was across from me burning holes into my forehead with his ferocious bright eyes. It occurred to me that it was the first time we'd both been in the same room together. To his left, Narcissa was matching Draco and I by staring down at the table. To my right at the other end of the table head was a man I could not place with long black hair and a dull expression on his face.

"Severus, would you be so kind as to continue with your report?" The snake-like man commanded in a milky voice. I could feel his horrible red eyes watching my face from the other side of the room as the man next to me at the other table head began to speak.

He sounded bored and drew his words out particularly slowly as though picking each word carefully, "My Lord, we have razed three...new resistance camps, followed by..." his eyes slid to Draco and then hung onto my face, "Draco's success in eliminating the mudblood, which Potter was quite dependent on." 

More rapturous and wicked laughing penetrated the air. Hands slapped at the table. I noticed that the Malfoy's weren't making a single move to participate in the cheering, almost like they were hoping that if they stayed perfectly still and quiet they might not be noticed in the room. My heart was beating dangerously fast. I felt extremely nauseated and light headed. My fingers squirmed below Draco's hand, which was now squeezing down, trying to indicate that I should stop.

“Some progress, my friends, but not nearly at the pace which we require," Voldemort said in a strange tone, "Harry Potter must die by my hand, and he must be brought to me very soon, or else, an example must be made." Eyes darted down to Draco and I.

"My Lord," Lucius lightly quipped in a begging tone, sounding anxious, "We will not fail you."

There was a sound as Voldemort pushed out of his chair followed by a rapid fluttering of robes as he appeared next to Lucius. The room was eerily silent and I panted quietly, trying to steady my rising panic. My vision was waning and going black with little sparks. Draco's hand shoved into mine lacing our fingers. He squeezed at my hand now, seemingly aware of how afflicted I was. 

"I understand that Draco has been sidetracked by the reappearance of his wife. What a shame it would be to see the end of such an esteemed, pure bloodline, Lucius. But that would be my price, you know," Voldemort was whispering it in Lucius' ear, leaning over his chair. My eyes foolishly lifted from the crawling feeling that was running down my spine. 

The dark lord had both gnarly hands wrapped around Lucius' shoulders, who was looking entirely ill. Voldemort was drilling his molten eyes into my face, looking amused. His freakishly long mouth was curled up into a razor thin smile that stretched much too far up his gray face.

Draco's other hand reached over and he rubbed at my skin affectionately, but it was too late. My entire body was trembling like an earthquake and I lost my vision, feeling my body twirl out of my chair. I lost consciousness before my head hit the floor, and slipped away into oblivion, as the Death Eater's laughter echoed around in my head.


	15. ﴾ You Are Mine ﴿

It was a rainy night at the Manor when I suddenly became aware of my own existence again. At first I didn't open my eyes, just laid there feeling my soul move around in my body. I was not back in the dungeons as I expected to be; the room didn't reek of death and my skin was against soft sheets. I looked around myself, realizing I was back in Draco's bed. He was breathing softly beside me, somewhere far away. His face looked pained in his sleep as though whatever he was dreaming of was not pleasant, and I noticed how sick and exhausted he was beginning to appear each day. I sat up rapidly, still filled with fear and clutched at the black sheets.

The stars of the night sky blared at me from outside. It was completely silent in the room.

I had passed out at the Death Eater gathering, right. I'd met lord Voldemort in person and he'd been terrifyingly interested in my demise as a form of punishment on Draco's tardiness in capturing Harry. The sudden urge to run and sleep in the bathtub overcame me and I began slipping my leg out of the sheets.

"Don't even think about it," Draco startled me by whispering in a hoarse voice. His eyes remained shut but his hand grasped my leg sharply under the covers, digging his nails into the skin. I laid back down gradually and stiffly laid on the pillow, tracing the patterns of the ceiling paneling for the hundredth time since arriving at the Manor.

He sighed deeply, "Just go to sleep. Don't think about it. I'm not going to tolerate crying tonight."

"What 'appened?" I asked tenderly, hoping he wouldn't harm me for the accident.

"You fucking know what happened," His eyes were open now and staring into mine mere inches away, "You fell out of your chair and humiliated our family. Luckily, the dark lord took it as a sign that you are not being spoiled. He's pleased with how pathetically starved and weak you are." His breath was sweet in my nose and I turned my head back to stare at the ceiling.

It was quiet again, and I closed my eyes to fake being asleep. His fingers squeezed on my thigh again and he drifted his hand up farther towards my underwear. I realized that I was nearly naked save for my undergarments.

"I know you're not going to asleep. Why don't we actually try for once?" he asked in a dark tone, pausing just before my panties.

When I simply sighed heavily in defiance he sat up staring down at me, shirtless, with long hair over his face, "Considering that you have attracted so much attention to yourself, my father has given me a month to impregnate you. My priorities have changed; you will be pregnant this time. I'm not going to allow Potter to best me." His fingers slowly began reaching for my panties and my hand shot down to still the act.

I turned my face to his in the darkness with a pleading look, "You don' want a pregnancy though. I don' want et either." I searched his glittering eyes for any sign of understanding.

He scowled in the moonlight from beside me, "You are mine, Madeleine. I won't let anyone else have you, especially not Potter." It was quiet as we stared at each other and I considered why he had such a bizarre and wild jealousy at the thought of Harry Potter having his way with me. He was evidently afraid of the new timeline on our opportunity to procreate, somehow assuming failure to do so would result in me cheating on him with his enemy.

He leaned in and gently kissed me and I pushed away with a gasp. "Ugh!" I screeched in complete awe at the randomness of it. He'd been so profoundly adamant about avoiding kissing up until that point, I couldn't believe he wanted it then of all times. "I've already asked you for dat. You cannot just suddenly want et.”

His fingers trailed up my belly, between my breasts and stopped on my jaw tugging my head back towards him sharply, “Maybe I do." He kissed me again and I squirmed away once more.

“I’m not in de mood after you left me in de dungeons for god knows ‘ow long. Surely you knew dat would ‘ave consequences,” I argued.

He rested his forehead on my shoulder with a deep sigh, his fingers still tracing my jaw. His voice came out muffled, “Surely you realize that wasn’t my decision to make. You were caught spying, you fool. My father watches my memories, it had to look authentic.”

I shut my eyes, wishing he would just leave it be. I had no proof that anyone watched his memories and I was getting fed up with the way his personality jerked up and down like an ill-designed theme park ride. Additionally I was exhausted and upset from recent events.

Unfortunately he lifted his gaze again and caressed my face, his nose inches from mine, “Do you want me to beg for it? We can fuck the way you like it.” His breath on my lips was annoyingly coercive. His fingers pushed up into the hair behind my ear as he stared into my eyes intently, “I’ll kiss you the whole time. I’ll make it sensual.”

He was coming onto me in all the ways I desired deeply. I felt my face sliding uncontrollably towards his and allowed him to kiss me slowly and passionately, his fingers tangling in my hair. I knew he was manipulating me and I didn’t care; it felt amazing.

He rolled on top of me, now between my legs. His tongue was in my mouth and I did nothing to stop it.

Our hips began grinding and our parts rubbed over the fabric of the undergarments between us. I could feel the pressure of his bulge between my legs. His kisses were harsh but passionate and our tongues danced against each other's seductively. He was in fact seducing me, using the method he knew would work. And it was working.

I reached down and pulled his hard member through the opening of his boxers and stroked it. He started moaning onto my lips. His kissing was breathy and ragged as I used my shaking fingers to push aside my panties and press him against the soft wetness between my legs. He didn't hesitate to take the invitation; he was immediately pressing inside of me and I groaned at the size and depth that he pushed to. His kissing found it's way down my jaw and around my neck as he shook on top of me, hardly containing his eruption already.

He was diving into me, matching the rhythm of my hips. I scratched at his back and my fingers drifted up to his messy platinum locks, pulling his head back slightly. He complied and I found his lips again greedily.

"I’m sorry I don’t know if I can handle the kissing - I can't hold it," he whined, pulling away from my lips as though the duration of our sex was even an important factor for pregnancy. He was squeezing his eyes shut in desperation and his jaw was grinding as he slowed and paused, trying not to explode.

I didn’t care if it was short, my orgasm was already about to happen. I wrapped my legs around him to force him back down and pulled his face back to mine and my tongue collided with his. I felt myself constricting around him as we picked up again, more heated than ever. He slid his fingertips down my ribs and behind the small of my back, arching me towards him as his speed increased. He was breathing very heavy against my lips as he started to release. He pushed hard kisses into my lips and shuddered, then slowly stopped pushing back and forth. He kept kissing me and his fingers were on my jaw, tracing my face with his thumb well after he'd came.

The odd, loving gestures at the end sent my mind spinning. He had never done this before, ever. He hadn't even pulled out of my body and our parts continued to throb hungrily against each other's.

I was the one to break the kiss, suddenly coming to my senses again. I turned my head to the side as he dug his face into my neck, "What are you doing Draco?" I whispered.

"I want you to know that you are mine, only mine." He whispered in my ear.

"Et was implied already," I said in a grouchy voice.

"Say it," He demanded, running his lips along my neck and I felt his fingers start to dig into my jugular.

I swallowed painfully, "I am yours, only yours."

He smiled against my skin, "Good. You would do well to remember it."

Then he was off of me and tugging me against his hot skin from behind. His stiff arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into him, staying there like the safety bar on a rollercoaster. I wanted to ask him why he consistently flip flopped in his levels of affection but I thought better of it. He had shown me just how cruel he could be, and it was important that I not piss him off. I wouldn't mistake any of the affectionate moments as being meaningful again.

He breathed deeply against my hair and I felt his fingers trailing my skin. I laid there, dumbfounded by the gentle movements with my eyes wide open and stared at the moon in the sky floating beyond the wall of windows.

۞۞۞۞۞

In the morning he was gone as usual. I spread guiltily in the comfort of the bed, grateful for how nice it was compared to the morbidity of the dungeons. I went back to sleep for several hours after shutting the curtains, and woke again later feeling much better but horrifically hungry.

After putting on a pair of white overalls and a pink sweater below, I snapped my fingers and called Nibbles. She appeared with a tiny pop and ran to cling to my leg. "Nibbles is so happy to see Mrs. Madeleine clean and safe! Nibbles left when she heard the Master coming through the dungeons-"

"Alright, alright," I cut her off, petting her soft head with my hands, "I'm quite fine. Nibs, can you bring some food? I am starving for something simple like eggs." She nodded and disappeared without hesitation. The day outside was still dreadfully rainy and faint snaps of lightning and growling of thunder had me feeling oddly cozy in Draco's room. I wondered where he was during the storm, was he soaked in the rain chasing Harry Potter through the streets of London?

I sat at his desk and pet the Lionspurt as I watched the rain smash down against the Manor. The glass was mildly fogging. The air smelled like soil and water and it felt rejuvenating. I was playing with the Lionspurt, tempting it to try and catch my finger in it's teeth, when I noticed that the bottom drawer of the desk had been left open.

Draco never left the desk unlocked, and I vaguely surmised that it might've been a trap. Perhaps I'd lose a hand if I stuck it in.

I tugged cautiously at the handle and it came open with ease. There was nothing in the drawer and I furrowed my brows in disappointment. I checked all of the other drawers but they were locked. I'd given up, assuming that he'd left the drawer unlocked because it contained nothing, but as I was shutting it my eyes caught an odd shimmering within. I ripped it open again and stuffed my whole hand in. My fingers met some kind of invisible fabric and I tugged it out, watching with disbelief as my entire forearm went temporarily missing. The fabric unfurled more and I finally caught glimpses of the rouge patterning of the other side which was visible.

I stood, ran to the mirror and wrapped it around myself like a towel. From my breasts down was completely invisible and I laughed in amazement.

I had no idea what this was supposed to be; some kind of cloak that completely shielded one from prying eyes? I played with it for another ten minutes, trying out all sorts of funny concepts in front of the mirror before I was struck by an idea.

I had already planned to stay up all night using the Aconite to spy on Draco's night time routine, or if he planned to sleep all night, maybe I could get my hands on his wand. Maybe the invisibility cloak would come in handy? I would have one shot though, as he'd more than likely discover that it was missing before the end of the week, perhaps even by the next day. So it would have to be that night.

I stashed the cloak under my side of the bathroom sink and was just shutting the cupboard door as Nibbles reappeared with food for me.

I sighed in relief at the entirely typical spread before me. Eggs, toast, beans, bacon. It was absolute heaven. "Thank you, Nibs it looks so good." I gave her a huge smile as I sat down at the desk, throwing my legs over the arm rest lazily. "Can I ask you, have you managed to save any of the Aconite we picked?"

I chewed at the toast as she lit up like a tiny candle. "Oh yes, of course Mrs. Madeleine! Nibbles is not ever being disobedient, Nibbles has it here safe," she held her frail fingers out and I gratefully took the shriveled leaves in my free hand.

"Dere's only one problem," I scrunched up my face in thought, "We need to brew it into a Wide-eyed potion; do you know where we can do dat?" The Manor absolutely had a potions room, but it was likely behind one of the many locked doors I'd encountered while wandering.

No doubt the Malfoy's assumed it was too dangerous for me to be going into a room so chemical in nature. They evidently saw me as mentally unstable. I rolled my eyes at the thought; if only they would give me a break considering I'd been put under such a powerful pregnancy protection charm.

Nibbles nodded rapidly, "Oh, yes, there's being one on the first floor. In the abandoned wing."

"De abandoned wing?" I asked, digging at the beans. I hadn't eaten properly in so long and I was already feeling better. The wind and rain outside of the Manor whipped a branch against the glass wall which caused us both to jump momentarily.

Nibbles rubbed at her thin arm, "Hmmm, yes, the master has locked the double doors leading to it. The master has told the elves that Mrs. Madeleine has bad memories there and cannot handle it. Nibbles doesn't be thinking-"

I held up my flat palm, as I had learned to do with her to silence her, "Nibs, we 'ave to go dere. I'm perfectly fine." She let me finish my breakfast while she chatted about finding her missing cookwareshe'd assumed incorrectly that Gardie had taken. Then she moved on to talk about how Draco used to be a very different person as a young boy and I nearly choked on my last forkful.

"What do you mean, different?" I asked, clearing my throat and pushing away the plate. I watched as her eyes softened and she smiled slightly with a far away look in her green eyes.

"Master Draco was a...an emotional boy. Him used to cry a lot, him was never being happy here. Nibbles and others would comfort him. The young master would go outside to build things like kites and science experiments and all of the elves would come to watch. Master Draco even had a cat, before...before...Master Lucius strung it up by it's neck off of the second floor balcony when it angered him. Hmmmm," Nibbles suddenly looked anxious and I shied away in case she was going to bite from the painful memory.

My heart felt sad for a moment before I banished the compassion, "Well, if 'e ever was such a good person it ‘as been lost now. Draco is a monster, Nibs. I'm sorry." I stood and started pulling on slippers while she followed me, whining like a Labrador that had been left inside the house.

She continued to rant passionately as I brushed my long hair out, "Master Draco is not being a monster. He is loving Mrs. Madeleine very much. Nibbles knows the Master since he was being very small. He is still not being happy here. He is being telling Nibbles that she must protect Mrs. Madeleine-"

"Protect me from 'imself, den!" I suddenly shouted, loosing my patience and she stepped back tearing up. I sighed, putting the heavy silver brush down, "I'm sorry, Nibs. You just don' know 'im like I do. He's my husband, afterall..." I trailed off awkwardly, wishing I hadn't said out loud that last part.

"Yes-yes he did say to protect you from himself, when he was being lost and forgotten," she said it in a tiny voice and I raised an eyebrow at the bizarre suggestion. There was no way he had said that, although, I hadn't really pegged Nibbles as being a liar. I shrugged it off and she followed me out into the hall.

"Lead de way to de abandoned wing, den," I gestured calmly. She took my hand and started floating down sets of stairs until we'd reached the bottom floor. It was very chilly on the first level and I was never really fond of being down there. I shivered in my bright white overalls. The pink sweater underneath was thin.

She tugged me into a hallway I'd been down many times and indeed stopped at a set of mahogany double doors that I'd found to be locked before. She reached up and waved her hand in a silky motion and I heard the lock snap open with a metallic click. I pushed the entrance open tentatively and peered my head in, ignoring Nibbles' nervous moaning at my knees.

The hallway beyond wasn't much different from the portion that we were standing in, but the smell of must and decay immediately hit me and the carpet was evidently dirtier. The air was far colder as I closed the doors behind us to prevent suspicion.

The black carpet rolled out down the lengthy hallway and there were portraits lining the jet black walls, collecting dust and snoozing in the middle of the afternoon. The empty and cavernous wing echoed with odd noises and the wind dug into cracks in the windows and walls, making thin screeching noises. At the end of the hallway a brooding, green and silver stained glass wall filtered light in through pale tendrils.

I took timid steps forward and glanced at the portraits as I passed. Some were clad in medieval clothing, many with the same bright platinum hair and piercing blue eyes. I paused in amusement to linger on one that looked freakishly similar to Draco, holding a huge steely sword in a silver tunic. He smirked at me with the same wicked grin, and swung the sword up, holding it in front of his face as though we were about to battle. I decided not to egg him on and followed Nibbles around the corner, giggling lightly at the portrait.

Nibbles stopped at a thick metal door with squares missing all along the face of it. I peered in through one of the square openings to confirm it was an abandoned potions lab. Beakers and cauldrons were scattered around the room, and a huge brick archway housing a blackened fireplace was in the center of the far wall.

We pushed the huge slab of metal inwards and it made an ear splitting crack, evidently not used for years. After I'd cleared dust and debris out of a cauldron and some other equipment I set to work, grateful that I'd paid enough attention in Herbology and Potions classes to have the simple procedure memorized. Nibbles sat on the desk next to me while I crushed and mixed items together.

While the uncomplicated potion was simmering into a bright purple I wandered around the filthy room, trying not to catch my hair on low spiderwebs scattered without. There was an abundance of broken glass from tools that had been shattered over time and unwashed cauldrons stacked up precariously next to the fireplace. Moldy bookshelves were caving in against both side walls. I squinted into the fireplace where writing was inscribed. A small carving into the black filth near the brick on the outside simply said DRACO in jagged slices.

Nibbles had been following my progression around the room, and her eyes rested on the lettering, "Master Draco used to be being locked in here for punishments." She stated it with a whiny, painful tone and twisted her fingers together.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the writing, picturing a young version of Draco huddled against the fire place in fear. The room was far from comforting; more similar to the dungeons than anything else found on the first level. I shut my eyes and walked away, not willing to allow myself any sympathy towards him again.

Soon the potion had become a milky lavender swirl. Nibbles and I cleaned out some vials and filled up six of them, much more than needed but it was always good to have extra. I shoved them in my pockets and laughed at how it made me look like my hips were insanely wide.

I was about to pull the door open when I froze. Someone was walking down the hallway and rather noisily at that. I ran and ducked down behind one of the counters, hoping that if they did open the door I'd have a fighting chance to hide.

"- know what you need to do then, don't you Lucius? If the girl has become that much of a threat to your son's life, put her in her place. Send her to Potter as an informant." A gravelly, unfamiliar voice was saying. The heavy thunking of their boots passed by the door then and I squeezed my eyes shut.

"As much as I'd prefer that Yaxley, I have graciously entertained his desires to retain her on the property. He is my son, after all. Yet he betrays me by scheming to prevent her pregnancy. She does not fear him, I'm afraid." Lucius articulated dryly. Their voices were fading away as they approached the corner of the hallway.

"Then make sure she does, you have plenty of means-" and then the rest of their words became nothing but distant tones as they rounded the corner. I shook against the counter taking in deep breaths with my hand clamped across my mouth. Nibbles sat across from me with a similar look of terror. We both silently digested the conversation we'd just overheard with wide eyes.

We waited at least ten minutes before running into the hallway and taking the back stairwell up to the fourth floor again.


	16. ﴾ Moonstone ﴿

For the rest of the afternoon I resigned to reading in the library on the third floor, sitting cross legged on the carpet by a huge fire and finding comfort in the stormy day. After I'd been there for hours I made my way back to the bedroom, clutching at texts about magical items - I had begun a new quest to find anything that had reference to the mysterious cloak which allowed the wearer to simply vanish.

When I opened the door to his bedroom the candles were lit on the walls and he was at his desk - home at seven, much earlier than usual. I swallowed nervously at the sight of him being so close to where I'd stolen the cloak from but maintained a straight face.

I went to the bed and threw the thick books down on the covers and his head slowly turned to take in the amount of reading I was doing. His eyebrows scrunched up as he evaluated my double braids, overalls and pink sweater, looking positively the opposite of anything a Malfoy would darn, "Are you going to the local farmer's market? What are you wearing?" He lifted his arm to rest on the backside of his chair, twisting his spine to partially face me and genuinely laughed at my girlish appearance.

I pressed my lips into a thin smile and kicked off my slippers, rudely uncaring of where they landed, "I think et es cute." I rolled onto the bed on my belly and my knees bent up behind me as I continued to flip through the pages of a book aptly named Magical Materials and Elements. I kicked my legs back and forth and tried to ignore his icy grey eyes on me.

He eventually turned back to his desk and continued writing, but I heard him laughing under his breath. The storm continued to wail against the glass in front of him and I noticed that the Lionspurt was now huddling into itself, thankfully ignoring Draco in it's fear of the weather outside.

My eyes drifted to him several times as he wrote fervently, the sound of his quill scratching fought to outdo the thunder outside.

He was wearing a shiny silver sweater and dark blue sweatpants. His reflection in the glass before him showed a young man, barely twenty years old. I couldn't avoid feeling pangs of sympathy for him, imagining him as a boy in the multiple, abusive scenarios I'd learned about his childhood that day. Had he been sweet? Had he cried much the way I did now? What was he punished for that would warrant being locked away in parts of the Manor that were scary? He had liked science and craftsmanship, did he still like those things?

I wished none of those details and questions were on my mind but they were, flowing like a river between the cracks of my brain. Suddenly his eyes darted straight forward into the glass reflection and found mine. He turned his head and looked at me blankly and my cheeks went hot with embarrassment. I bit my lip and looked back at my book now wanting to turn inside out.

"Why are you staring at me?" I heard him ask brusquely.

My eyes lifted again with indignity and met his unbroken confrontation. His eyes were wide and questioning, but not aggressive. I shrugged again, feeling silly and nervous.

He gave me a confused look and went back to writing, but I noticed now that his vision frequently flickered up to the glass, eyeing me down to catch me a second time. I eventually slid my books off onto the floor with an exhausted huff and several of the potted plants on the nearby floor hissed with disapproval. I unsnapped the buttons on my overalls, letting them drop with a thud and saw that he was now fully watching me undress in the reflection.

"Now who is staring?" I shot at him accusatorially.

He snorted and his lip curled up, "At least I don't try to hide it." His quill was frozen in place and I could see an ink blot forming under the tip. I stood there in my white lacy underwear and tight pink sweater, not breaking eye contact in the glass, twisting around so he could see multiple angles of me. The room became tense. The air felt thick like water and the sounds of our breathing were unusually loud.

He dropped the quill and was out of the chair in seconds, striding over to me. He leaned his hand on the bed post above my head, hovering over me with deep concentration. Dragging his fingers lightly along my bare waist, his eyes met mine with desire, "Careful. Don't tease me unless you mean it."

I twisted my fingers in his sweater as we locked eyes. The electricity between us was unheard of. He pushed me onto the bed and followed my face down into the sheets, grabbing my ass tightly. Then he danced kisses along my neck and I shrieked giddily as it tickled.

He pulled back at lightning speed appearing worried, "What is wrong?" He looked suddenly like he was a medic on a battlefield assessing where I'd been stabbed.

I laughed at his seriousness, "It was ticklish, dat's all."

He seemed unable to snap out of the uncharacteristically concerned mood. He was frozen above me.

"You are like a rollercoaster. What es dis polarized personality about?" I asked calmly.

It was as though he had an evil twin somewhere in the house and they were taking turns spending time with me. One minute he was ruthless and cruel, the next he seemed warm and sensitive.

He shut his eyes and I saw him retreat somewhere inside of himself. Then he had rolled off of me and onto his back, staring up at the paneling in similar fashion to how I did when I was nervous. He turned his face to meet mine and his eyes looked soft, hopeless even.

My fingers reached across and gently tugged at his, "What es going on wit' you? Sometimes, you are so wonderful and I want you to never leave. Other times, you terrify me..." I trailed off and he must've known what was coming because he squinted at a spot on the wall behind my head uncomfortably.

I had to talk about it, "You know I saw de dungeons, Draco." My lip trembled uncontrollably at the mention of it, and I mentally begged it to stop, knowing that if I allowed myself to cry than it would all be over. My voice had pitched unfortunately high at the word dungeons.

His face looked pale and broken then, like he was subject to start crying as well, "You'll never...I'd never leave you there forever. You don't understand, I had no choice. I never do." His eyes were in fact starting to tear and I turned fully on my side to face him.

"But you would leave me der as punishment? Do you 'ave any idea what dat did to me?" My throat was painfully tight and my tone slightly resentful. He looked sick and turned back to the ceiling.

"I can't imagine what you must think of me," He cried, gasping loudly.

"You are building a graveyard of innocent people below our feet!" My voice was strained as I finally accused him of what I'd seen. It was relieving that I could have the conversation with his compassionate side, although I still couldn't be sure if the mean one wasn't far behind.

He put his hand over his eyes as tears slid down his cheeks. He sobbed before me, but I struggled to feel sympathy for him without any answers. He rubbed at his eyes, still crying and reached over to pull me close to him. Both of his arms wrapped around me as he tugged me sideways across him and kissed my hair and my forehead. His fingers ran down my long thick braids, "I can't tell you why you see two sides of me so often, or... why I have to kill innocent people. Just know that if it isn't that way, none of us at the Manor will be alive for long."

My face was buried into his neck, and I felt confused. I had an aching feeling in my heart and a longing to reconnect with him, but my trust had been snapped. He must've felt how far away I was because he squeezed me against him even tighter and continued sobbing, as though he were holding my dead body. Something had certainly been lost between us, whether or not it was permanent only his ability to be open and honest would tell.

I twisted my fingers in his shirt as a burning lump appeared in my throat. "Draco, will you tell me about us before?" I asked the same question I'd asked so many times since being brought to the Manor.

He rubbed my back and shook his head, clearing his throat, "I really can't, Madeleine. I'm sorry."

"Why?" I asked sharply, annoyed with his unwillingness to communicate. I pushed up suddenly onto my knees and looked down at him in my braids and sweater like a child asking their parents to wake up on Christmas morning.

He frowned at me through desperate red eyes. "It's not that I won't, it's that I can't," he cryptically replied and I smashed my fists into the bed, causing him to jump.

I walked away and slammed the bathroom door. I turned on the sink to mask my actions and opened my end of the cabinet. I dug my fingers into where the balled up invisibility cloak was. After a few moments I found it and pulled out a vile from the stash within, chugged the Wide-eyed potion I'd made earlier without a shred of elegance, and then carefully returned the empty vile to the cupboard. I silently tugged out the rest of the viles so that the cloak was close to the cupboard door for easy removal.

I came back into the room and sat on the bed facing him cross legged. He looked like a sad, lost puppy again, staring at me through hooded blue eyes.

I reached up to tug out the pink silk ribbon around the end of one of my braids. He startled me by shooting his hand out to stop me, "They're cute...really. Leave them." His fingers closed around mine and ripped me back into his arms.

I awkwardly cuddled him sideways as he laced our fingers together and whispered, "I won't be myself again tomorrow. I'm sorry. Just stay with me tonight, please." His heart was dancing rapidly in his chest below my ear. I furrowed my eyebrows in complete and utter confusion. What was he referring to? Did he have a split personality disorder? An actual twin?

He wandlessly commanded the candles out and pulled the comforter up around us. Eventually I felt him falling asleep. He breathed more steadily and calmly, but his body was still rigid and stiff. It would be a horribly long night for myself as I was going to be wide awake for the next twenty-four hours or so.

Several hours passed as I thought about my previous life, my current life, love, Draco and his family, the Death Eaters. I thought of old black and white movies I'd seen from America and what had happened to my favorite hand mirror from my grandmother that I'd packed for Hogwarts.

I was insufferably bored, faking being asleep, when suddenly a small buzzing erupted on his wrist along my spine, causing me to slightly arch away from the rippling assault. It was like a tiny animal was crawling only at perfect intervals and with great ferocity for mere seconds at a time. It continued to produce vibrations and I could see a faint green glow of light appear behind me.

He sighed heavily and then proceeded to cautiously move his arm out from underneath me, unaware that I was completely awake beneath my carefully shut eyes and controlled breathing. The vibrating stopped as he clicked a button on his wrist; the military watch. It beeped twice in a digital tone then he was pushing himself out of my arms and the bed. He moved like a ninja and I was shocked at his ability to detach our bodies with such ease.

Watching from one cracked eye, I saw him wander around the room and then pull his wand out of his desk, careful to lock it again afterwards. So I'd found out where he kept the wand at least; it had already been a running theory that the desk was likely. Then he was approaching me again and I shut my eye, focusing on breathing steadily and lazily. His fingers were on my face, brushing hair away from my forehead. He stood there for a painstakingly long time then I heard him turn on his heel and leave the room.

I spared no time from the moment the latch clicked. Tossing the covers off of myself violently I shoved my feet into my boots. I didn't know if he was going to go outside and boots were essential. I ran to the bathroom and ripped out the invisibility cloak. As I approached the door I threw it over my head so I was completely invisible and quietly pulled the door open and shut. I tiptoed to the stair case where I could see the brightness of his wand moving down the stairs a level below. He wasn't moving very fast as I'm sure he didn't want to rouse a single soul.

I followed him easily, and then he was at the double doors to the abandoned wing. I caught up with him too quickly here, afraid that he would lock the doors behind himself.

He spun, his wand was outstretched towards me where I was standing about ten feet behind him. I watched in horror as his eyes scanned every inch of the hallway, narrowed in the glow of his wand. His face was defensive and he stayed that way for minutes before finally unlocking the doors and slipping through. I reached forward to catch the door mere millimeters before it clicked shut again, holding my breath. Hopefully he'd moved far enough down the hallway beyond that he hadn't noticed the lack of sound.

I waited another minute before tugging it open with a pounding heart. The hallway looked black and empty, and the chill of the beyond wing hit me like a brick. I shivered under the invisibility cloak and moved as fast as I could on my tip toes in the soft boots. I rounded the corner, starting to panic that I'd lost track of him, when I heard a loud door opening at the other end of the hall. I followed the passageway, past the potions room, and saw a light ahead in a tunnel leading below the back stairwell which I hadn't noticed before.

As I approached I noticed with horror that it was a set of wet brick stairs that looked positively ancient, leading downwards. The stench of the updraft confirmed that it was likely the dungeons that I was following him into. A wave of sheer despair crashed into me as I watchfully took each step, making sure not to trap the cloak below my boot and crash down.

Then it occurred to me where he was going; to the room at the end of the tunnel with the huge stone bowl which was housing my family heirloom. I picked up my pace so as not to lose his wand light. I had to know what he was doing in there that caused him to come back as a snarling beast.

It would make a lot more sense to just apparate into the room, but then I realized that magic in the household associated with apparition was probably being tracked. He would have to walk through the sea of skeletons, and so would I. I swallowed as the stench magnified and I came to the bottom of the staircase, which led to an opened iron gate.

The glow of his wand was not very far ahead, maybe five feet. He had fallen against the wall, supporting himself with one hand on the mossy brick. He was heaving and fighting not to hurl.

"Fuck," he whispered and then couldn't contain it. I watched with zero pity as he retched from the horrifying scene before him. He had created this nightmare, he deserved to feel guilty and sick from it. He covered his eyes with his forearm and cried lightly, the tip of the glowing wand angled back awkwardly and directly into my eyes.

Then he was pushing forward, careful to stay as close to the wall as possible where he'd clearly strategized a walking path. I noticed it for the first time and took a mental note to find this wall again if he ever brought me back there. The floor against that alignment was dry enough not to be muddy and I followed him with relative ease. I saw him pause only once and turn his head as though suspicious but then kept going.

We'd suddenly reached the stone tunnel that lead to his secret room. The smell had retracted enough that I saw his shoulders loosen slightly as his shoes met the cleaner stone floor. He went to the huge arched doorway and I sucked in my breath suddenly remembering the brick that I had been chipping at to loosen. He didn't seem to notice, just removed a knife from his pocket and snapped out the blade.

He gasped loudly as he dug a line into his palm and blood rushed to the surface of the skin. He muttered some kind of incantation under his breath and smeared his hand across the top-most plank of the archaic doorway. It was red for a moment before vanishing and the door unlocked with a booming echo. It independently scraped inwards with a horrible scratch of stone on stone. The brick I'd been chipping at wobbled only slightly but remained in place and I breathed out a silent breath of relief.

He went inside and I hovered in the arched doorway with my mouth open in shock. The table in the center which held the huge stone bowl was in fact a stone tomb. The Malfoy Crest was carved into the toe end which faced me. It was a sarcophagus of sorts, and I wondered if the first ever Malfoy was entombed there.

He walked to the wall filled with glass vials and pulled an empty one out of the shelf. I noticed that they seemed to be in some kind of order. The one he'd removed was the first one in the line that was clear, as though he was filling them one by one chronologically.

He stared at it in his hand with a deep frown, as though unsure of what it was. He was thinking deeply, and didn't appear to be motivated for whatever came next. Then he pocketed the vile and instead moved farther down the line running his fingers along the names with care. I dared to drift slightly closer so I could squint at what was written on them. The ones closest to me and the doorway were all labelled with dates from the years before, and many said Hogwarts. Some even had further descriptions like Halloween or Quidditch.

These were memories. I baulked and put a hand to my mouth. He was obliviating his memories, even if only partially, and he was storing them as Lucius had suggested, in some kind of sacred family tomb deep in the Manor dungeons.

He stared at the wall of memories with tears falling slowly down his cheeks. I watched as he plucked out one that said Moonstone and my eyes darted offensively to the locked glass case in the corner where my moonstone necklace twirled slowly.

He poured it into the stone bowl with carving's of symbols all along it exterior, and the mist curling out of it changed faintly to a bright blue. His fingers grasped either side of the bowl tightly and I saw his eyes fade to a dull hue, as though he suddenly had cataracts. I eyed the vile he'd removed with conjecture. The label on the exterior of the glass was much more faded than the others. He obviously was attached to this one.

I could tell he'd gone into the memory and I carefully circulated to the opposite side of the bowl, watching his face with hard concentration. I'd never seen anything like this before - it seemed to be some kind of ancient magic.

I kept moving in a silent creep and then reached the moonstone necklace behind the case, pressing my sweaty fingers to the glass in desperation. It was less than a foot away from me but the glass was locked with magic. I watched the iridescent blue and white colors pulsing within it with longing. I had stared at this moonstone my entire life and never taken it off of my neck. It had always protected my heart and kept it pure. It had always guided me when lost or troubled and I needed it now more than ever.

There was a crashing sound from behind me and I bit my lip to prevent myself from screaming in shock. Draco had fallen to his knees in front of the gigantic sarcophagus. His fingers were pressed into his eyes hard as he wept uncontrollably. His shoulders shook and he cried almost as loudly as I had when he'd first locked me down there.

My instincts were to run to him but I clasped my hands behind my back and shut my eyes. Obviously the memory had caused him great agony and his desperate screaming filled the small room. My heart was pounding as I realized there was no other twin, there was no split personality - there was only a boy with a gentle heart and defensive anger issues, as Nibbles had said. There was only a boy being forced to erase himself time and time again for the sake of his family, so that he could remain a monster with hardly any memory of love or emotion.

I tried not to panic as I realized I needed to escape before he decided to leave and I was locked in the room incriminatingly. I started to slide my foot precariously to the side, taking micromovements towards the doorway. By the time I'd squared myself in front of the bowl he stopped crying and pushed onto his feet, coughing and attempting to compose himself.

I froze only a few feet directly in front him on the other side of the bowl and held my breath painfully. He gathered the moonstone memory back from the mist into it's vial and put it on the shelf. When he turned to place it back in it's place I shuffled a few more feet towards the entrance. I was now closer to the exit than he was.

Then he clutched his wand in his fingers and the empty vial in the other hand with a look of extreme dread filling his face. His lips trembled in a strong frown and his eyebrows knit together. The fingers around his wand were white with the harshness of his grasp.

I had pressed myself out of the doorway and was walking backwards slowly down the tunnel lined with cells. I watched as he brought the tip of his wand to his temple. His fingers shook as he closed his eyes in defeat and whispered the word obliviate. I didn't hold back on moving quicker now, knowing that whoever emerged when his eyes reopened would not be same boy who'd held me to sleep that night. Once I was safely on the dirt pathway again I began to quietly jog back to the dungeon exit, feeling entirely floored by what I now knew.


	17. ﴾ Fire ﴿

Back in his room I took a bath. Even though it would look suspicious, I figured it would be even more quizzical if I smelled like the reek of death from running in the dungeons. I sat in the bubbles with my head in my knees, barely above the liquid. I had only roughly ten minutes in the room before he was back.

I heard the door open quietly and then a long pause. He opened the door to the bathroom with an insanely mistrustful glare on his hardened features. He was gone again, replaced only by the boy who knew how to be a soldier.

He leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms as I lifted my head. I had a strange realization that we were both living in each other's alternate realities; I had memories of his that he no longer carried in his mind, and he memories of me that I no longer carried in my mind. We both had bits and pieces of our timeline together. I stared at him, knowing he'd just emptied the hours earlier away into a glass vial. Maybe someday he would revisit holding me that night.

"What the fuck are you doing in the bathtub at four in the morning?" He narrowed his eyes at me, "When I left you were sleeping."

I looked down at the bubbles popping against my knees with shock. He hadn't removed everything; he'd somehow mastered only removing the part of the memory associated with his feelings. It was incredibly difficult magic to learn; I'd heard vaguely that obliviation masters only ever emerged through genetic predisposition. It must have been a unique genetic ability harbored by the Malfoy's which would explain the ancient looking bowl in the basement above the timeworn tomb. 

"Well?" He asked, looking exhausted. I could smell the assaulting fumes of decomposition coming off of his clothing as he rotated in the doorway so that his spine was on the hinge. He let his head hit the wood behind him and stared at the ceiling.

I countered him, curious to understand how much he'd obliviated, "What es de problem? Do you want to keep cuddling?" I ran my hands through my soaked hair, knowing full well he could see my entire naked, glistening chest. I didn't care anymore; I'd become normalized to his presence and our sexual relationship.

His eyes slid over my body as I leaned back, both arms on either side of the black tiles of the tub. I myself had progressed since having the pregnancy charm removed; I was becoming more aggressive and bold again, and I sat there with power. I had answers he didn't know I had, and this had changed everything. I knew who he really was whether he wanted me to or not.

His blue eyes met mine still looking cynical, "Did I say that I wanted that? I'm asking why you're awake at this hour all of a sudden, acting like some...siren in the fucking bathtub."

I tilted my head and let my golden gaze burn into him, "Funny, Draco. You also seem to ‘ave changed since you left the room. Anything I should know?"

He stiffened and his body was off of the doorframe rapidly. His eyes searched my face, I saw his lips part and his eyes widen, "What are you playing at?"

"What are you playing at? You smell like my dead grandmother," I said, shuffling bubbles together in front of myself nonchalantly. My lip curled up and I smiled devilishly down into the bathwater at how hilarious the entire conversation was. It was becoming increasingly hard not to laugh in his face.

So this was how it felt to be all-knowing in the presence of the obliviated. Even if he could remember the actual night, he had no idea how he'd felt earlier, and that I now knew his secrets about just how vulnerable he really was deep down. I had given it a lot of thought on my way back up the stairs.

He obviously had to continue obliviating himself regularly because his vulnerability would constantly seep back out and he would end up creating emotional memories like tonight over and over. It didn't matter that he kept obliviating the memories of feeling love, because it was simply his nature. It would always be there, deep down.

He barked a short laugh and ran a hand through his hair, pacing around the vast lavatory, "Who the fuck do you think you are? Have you become drunk again in the hour that I left?"

I shrugged and stretched my arms out above my head to really accentuate the perkiness of my breasts and smiled at him, "No. But I would love to be. Oh but right, my loving husband 'as banned et." I crossed my legs in the bathtub and my toes extended beyond the edge, dripping shiny bubbles onto the tiles below.

His eyes flared at me, amused and dubious all at once. His fingers were over his mouth as he started laughing at me, "That's good, that's pretty good. Great presentation, Madeleine. However you got your hands on alcohol I will find out, and I will ensure whoever gave it to you loses a body part."

"I'm not drunk, just because I'm not spineless, Draco," I cooed as I played with the bubbles, "Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving. You reek." I raised my eyebrows at him as if to inquire once again if he planned on admitting why he stank like the dungeons.

He smirked wickedly but his eyes were bright and engaged. He ripped his silver sweater off in one fluid movement and my eyes were instantly magnetized to his abs, "Riddle me this; why should I leave my own bathroom?" He walked towards the tub smoothly and bent down next to me on his heels, crossing his arms on the rim of the tub. He rested his chin in his arms next to my face and smiled at me cruelly, then faked a mocked pout, "You think you're so tough? Or have you realized this is all just a show you're putting on?"

I flicked water in his face, "Oh Draco, we both know dat dis is a show you are putting on too." Without wanting to bicker more I shoved my head underneath the hot water. I let myself drift to the bottom of the tub and held my breath with my eyes shut. My long hair floated around me in the water.

It was a minute or so before I felt his hands on my hips and my spine, arching me forwards. He dragged me up out of the water and into his embrace. He'd gotten into the huge tub with me and now I was in his lap, legs over either side of him. I reached my hands up to brush my soaked hair back from my face and he kissed at my breasts. I let my hands drop onto his shoulders as he tugged me down onto his hardness and began penetrating me, rocking my hips above him. I gasped loudly with the sudden intrusion but met his rhythm almost instantly. He was biting his lip and making tantric eye contact with me. He looked up at me with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, and I truly felt like his Queen in that moment.

I reached up a soaked hand behind his back commanding his still dry hair back with blunt force and bent down to kiss him with my wet lips, shoving our tongues together. I continued pulling at his hair sharply as his fingers dug into my butt cheeks, ripping me over his hips.

The electricity between us was more intense than ever, and it felt like if we weren't in the water we'd burn the building down to the ground. It was rough; we were finally matching each other in power and desire. I knew then that even when he erased how it felt to feel love, he still wasn't as vile as he wanted me to believe he was. He'd always be soft at his core, he'd always remember that he did love me even if the memory of the feeling was removed. And many of the expensive, villainous words he used to threaten me were completely empty, just a front to scare and control me. 

"Fuck, you're so hot when you're a bitch," he moaned against my lips, and started kissing down my chest. I watched as his now messy hair moved down by body, his pointy nose, his long eyelashes. 

I hung my head back and moaned. He sucked at my soapy breasts and I began to cum as he played with my nipples in his teeth. When my loud moaning reached it's peak and transitioned to screaming he came with me, kissing my neck and biting my shoulder.

I didn't waste any time. I stood and wrung my hair to the side while he stayed there, leaning back and panting. His eyes were everywhere on my body with a shocked expression on his face. I winked at him and stepped out, "Hmm, and you're so hot when you're not talking." Then I spun my hair into a towel, wrapped another around my waist and left him in the bubbles. He was smirking at me as I walked out.

۞۞۞۞۞

When I woke up the next morning I felt soreness between my legs from the rough sex we'd had in the tub. I had absolutely no regrets though, suddenly feeling incredibly even with Draco for the bold attitude I'd had. My scheming was beginning to give me my power back and it showed. 

Draco had told me the night before that he was going to London in the morning and might not be home the next night, so I had plenty of time to laze around or do some research. I dressed into a short slate gray dress with long sleeves and an umbrella waist. It was still wet and grungy outside and I had no desire to tend to my garden in such conditions. I knew that the Fanged Geraniums would be filled with sass the next time I went out, after being completely ignored for nearly a week, but so be it.

I went to the library for several hours and found an interesting article on The Deathly Hallows, nearly choking on my coffee when I saw the Cloak of Invisibility listed there. How had Draco come across such a valuable item? Unless he'd taken it from one of his victims. And now, it was stashed underneath our bathroom sink, where he didn't know it had gone to. 

It occurred to me in that moment that I had absolutely no way of returning it to the locked drawer where I'd removed it from and I instantly frowned at my mug, watching the contents swirling slowly. This was not well planned.

I eventually decided to go back to the room and nap, considering I had lost so much sleep in the middle of the night chasing Draco through the dungeons and then later hooking up in the bathtub. When I pushed open the door my books literally fell out of my arms and scattered at flip-flopped angles around my slippers. 

He was standing there staring out the window in peculiar robes, even for him. It was barely past noon and I had never seen him home at that hour, much less on a day when he'd specifically told me he wasn't going to be home, possibly at all. He turned to look at me with a very strict and odd expression and my heart fluttered with instant and unexplained panic. Had he found the missing cloak? The Wide-eyed potions? Was I in trouble again for not being pregnant?

His eyes drifted to the pile of books at my feet and he hissed in disapproval, "Now, now Madeleine, we are better than such disarray. You will clean that up and come over here at once." He flashed me an unbelievably stringent look and shivers went down my spine. I raised an eyebrow at him while collecting the books, trying not to let my newfound confidence falter so soon.

"Why are you ‘ome so early?" I asked as I moved the books to the table by the door and closed it, folding my arms. Something about his entire presence was wildly unnerving but I couldn't place it. Perhaps I'd just met the evil twin, I mused in a silly thought.

He stiffened and his head turned to the side in a sharp, exacting motion that looked robotic. His bright blue eyes bit into my skin, "How dare you question whether or not I should choose to be in my own home."

I blanked at why he was suddenly so angry over trivial conversation. Draco was known to be short tempered over obvious nonsense like crying or arguing, but not really basic questions - as long as I didn't ask too many in a row, naturally. My heart sunk violently as I considered the idea that he'd been completely and totally obliviated. 

I breathed hard and painfully, knowing my growing fear was obvious on my face, "What 'appened? Are you okay, Draco?" I took a step forward, now afraid that I'd lost him forever. 

He gave me a murderous look and snapped his finger, "I've already told you to come over here, girl. If I must repeat myself than there will be severe consequences. You have duties to uphold."

My mouth dropped open at the outdated verbiage and I laughed in disbelief, "What the fuck, Draco?" I stood where I was, refusing to move with unimpressed, wide eyes.

He gave me a short, thin smirk and then his voice was light and milky, "Very well. You will learn the hard way what your place is in this relationship." He took two massive strides then and his strong hand clamped down on my upper arm. He threw me into the desk and I yelped as my hips collided with the wood, sending shooting pain through my bones. My hands reached up to push up off of the desk but he ripped them both behind me and magically bound them together, then he was pinning my head down sideways against the wood with so much pressure that a headache blossomed in my temple. 

It was then that I realized he was going to rape me for the first time. I started crying and kicking but his hand held my head down hard. Then nothing happened briefly as I wailed and gasped. His foot pushed against mine and my legs widened suggestively. My screaming reached a new height, the shrill piercing of it hurt even my own ears. I had never been raped before and the open sense of complete and pathetic vulnerability was like knives into my mind every single second.

I felt him leaning over me but my underwear and dress were still on, and so was his clothing. I didn't feel anything hard against me either. He brushed my hair aside and whispered in my ear roughly, "You had better look just like this every time I ask you to perform your duties, girl, or I will leave you to rot in the dungeons with the rest of your kind." Finally my screaming had reached a pitch even I thought was impossible, and suddenly my hands were hot. I felt him step back rapidly and I spun to face him in hatred and confusion, assuming he'd poured something scalding or acidic into my hands. The heat followed behind me, though and he slowly backed out of the room looking perplexed. I could hear the lapping of flames as I continued to scream, hoping he would never return.

Then I realized the entire desk was on fire behind me. I stepped away almost tripping and took deep, controlled breaths, feeling the flames in my hands simmer away. The fires that had now spread to the desk however were not dying down. The curtains caught with the igniting blue element and soon the entire desk, my Lionspurt, many of the plants and the entire glass wall were being consumed by bright neon flames.

I backed up and then turned to run at full-force out of the room yelling "Fire! Fire!" I passed Narcissa and several of the elves in the hallway as they made their way to Draco's bedroom to extinguish the disaster. Narcissa grabbed the sleeve of my dress as I passed her but I ripped away, still completely magically bound by my wrists and headed for the stairwell.

She looked extremely concerned, and picked up her dress to follow me, "No! Madeleine wait, it's okay."

I ignored her and jogged down the huge stone stairs, tears streaming in my eyes from the assault. I slipped and fell painfully onto my backside, and choked through the sudden breathlessness it left in me. Then I pushed back up just as Narcissa had almost caught me again, "Please, Madeleine wait!" she called frantically, but I gave her a mistrustful look and bounded away again taking three steps at a time recklessly, able to only beat her due to my athleticism and her dress being so long and in the way of her steps.

On the first floor I could think of nowhere to go at first, before I took off towards the abandoned wing. Thankfully, Draco had accidentally left the doors open and I pushed through one and shut it behind it me to cover my tracks. I sprinted to the potions room, shut that door too, and then pushed myself deep into the extremely filthy fire place with his named carved into and shut my eyes, shaking beyond description. The faint sound of Narcissa calling my name around the Manor continued for at least an hour before finally fading away.


	18. ﴾ It Wasn't Me ﴿

"How dare he? I'll kill him myself!" I could hear shouting in the abandoned wing after having taken a rather dusty nap in the potions fireplace. My eyes flickered opened and I coughed dryly on the black filmy dust all around me. I swallowed whatever saliva I had left to calm my throat, hoping the Malfoy's wouldn't hear me.

Narcissa's anxious voice became more obvious, "Well check them all then. You're sure she's in this area, Draco?" I heard a doorway down the hall opening and their voices faded inside. Shit. They were going to find me, Draco was going to find me and force me back into that awful position. I would have to kill him or myself before I could go back to that room.

I pushed myself up and twisted my head around in disgust as I'd stood straight into a spiderweb. I moved across the room and grabbed a sharp shard of a broken beaker from the table, standing backwards to do so with my bound hands. Then I scrambled back to the fireplace and shoved as far as I could into the corner, knowing I looked nothing short of a filthy, abandoned dog. The slate gray dress I was wearing added a welcome blend into my surroundings at least, but my bright golden hair would be a painful giveaway. I winced as the rough glass sliced into my fingers unforgivingly.

Their footsteps indicated they were back in the hallway again. I could see the glow of a lantern now through the square holes in the metal doorway to the potions room. "It doesn't work like that, mother. It's not an exact location, it's perhaps a one hundred foot radius at best," Draco was saying, clearly annoyed.

"Try this one then," she suggested, and I heard them open yet another doorway close by. The lantern light disappeared from the hallway beyond. I stood and bolted for the potions door and without hesitation I was back in the hallway. I ran lightly past the room they were speaking in as I could hear them arguing and calling my name. I turned backwards at the door they had just tried, pried it open, and slipped backwards inside of a pitch black room that reeked of moldy furniture. Perhaps there was a terrace door I could escape through.

The room was so poorly lit that I squinted for several seconds inadequately. I heard the adjacent doorway open again and Draco stomped his foot in the hallway, cursing. Narcissa hissed, "Compose yourself. Let's try the lab." They crossed the hallway to where I had just come from and a stab of revenge gave me satisfaction knowing that I was leading them in circles.

I backed around the edge of the room awkwardly tripping on furniture. I could hear an old grandfather clock ticking away in one corner without a care in the world. I located the curtains to a window and tugged them open as best as I could with my bound hands. There was no latch to open the window and I cursed under my breath. I decided to settle for hiding behind the large curtain that weighed an absolute ton. Then I realized that my feet were sticking out.

So I did what I'd done before and fell onto my butt directly in front of the fireplace, then skooched myself deep into the monstrous cave that it was, curling up into a ball and putting my head between my knees. The glass that was now up my sleeve was leaving blistering cuts deep into my skin with every movement and my arm felt soaked from the running blood.

A chill went down my spine when I realized that the room was filled with growing whispers. It was so unbelievably terrifying I felt lightheaded in the pitch black. It was as though a good fifteen people were in the dark corners of the room, watching me.

The door ripped open to the room and I dared not look up. "She has to have come this way, look, this soot wasn't here before. Madeleine dear, if you're in here please just come," Narcissa said in a warm tone. I could tell she was genuinely concerned, but also in disbelief at my lack of lady-like behavior.

I could feel the warm light of the lantern drifting around without even opening my eyes. The whispers grew to full blown voices and I bleakly pictured an entire cavalry out looking for me before I realized the room was filled with paintings.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"The little rat went in there," I heard the scratchy, critical voice of an elderly lady.

The sound of the lantern settling about six feet onto the stone hearth in front of me made me look up with teary eyes. Draco was crouched in the opening appearing deeply sorrowful, his eyebrows were pushed together in worry. He was wearing his typical black Death Eater robes, not what I'd seen him in earlier. His eyes wandered over my form as I huddled into the corner, obviously defeated and terrified, shaking like a cornered mouse. Narcissa bent beside him in the green dress she'd tried to chase me in.

"Madeleine , I'm so sorry," Draco said, sounding like he was choking underwater. He reached his hand out to me but I immediately cried and kicked it away.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted at an inappropriate volume, "You fucking rapist!"

His head hung low so I couldn't see his eyes and he sobbed. Narcissa ran her hand over his back soothingly. She looked at me, "Madeleine, this is not what it seems. There's been a misunderstanding. We aren't upset about the fire. Please, come out." She too put out her hand but I leaned as far back as I could, out of her grasp. Why on earth anyone would build a fireplace so deep and low in stature was beyond me, but it was highly convenient for the given circumstances. It was though I'd found a perfect tunnel to defend myself.

"She'll never believe me. She'll never come back from this one, he knew that," Draco was saying as his tears hit the brick in front of his shoe. His agony was even more deep than when I'd watched him cry in the tomb, as though someone had just died in front of him. His own humanity had died I thought in my head, seeing flashbacks of the almost-rape.

Narcissa looked uneasy, "Nonsense. Madeleine is an intelligent young lady, isn't that right Madeleine?" She turned to look at me desperately, "She will hear us out."

"I'll kill myself before I ever look at 'im again," I said truthfully, clutching at the glass in my sleeve. I bored my eyes into Narcissa's face, incredulous that she would go so far as to defend violent rape.

"It wasn't me!" Draco bawled from where he was bent on one knee. He looked up at me with mournful eyes, "You have to know I wouldn't actually-"

I kicked soot in his face to silence him and Narcissa glared at me looking positively lethal. Draco stumbled backwards and stood, coughing frantically. "Madeleine! That's quite enough!" Narcissa thundered angrily.

She looked at the soot in front of my feet as though incredulous at what she was about to do, then delicately placed both of her pristine, white hands into the black filth. She crawled in slowly and I felt spite soar in my chest that she'd come into the retched safety hole I'd made for myself. She leaned against the wall elegantly, as though being seated at a high-class restaurant instead of a fireplace interior. She looked down at me from the side, apparently just then realizing that my hands were bound behind my back.

"You will listen to me, Madeleine. My son has effectuated many indecent, and immoral acts this past year to protect this family. He has even executed innocent people at the cost of his own sanity. But he is not a rapist. He was not on this property earlier today. The individual that attacked you in your bedroom was someone else, with an agenda on their mind to separate you two by breeding mistrust and fear." She pursed her lips, as though having to spell it all out to me was a chore.

Draco was pacing in the bedroom several feet away, still coughing helplessly and trying to clear his eyes. His hair was now ashen from the blast.

Narcissa looked from me to him, and back to me, analyzing my face as I watched him pace. "You are not supposed to be entirely privy to this, but Draco cares very deeply for you. More than you could ever imagine, he's simply not able to retain it for more than a few days at a time. His memories and his emotions are consistently monitored by the head of this house and the Dark Lord."

She waited for me to respond with perfect regal composure. Her blue eyes looked black in the darkness of the fireplace. I was breathing heavily as I slowly nodded my head, unsure yet if it was trap. The words seemed to line up, seemed to be sincere, but I had witnessed him in person attack me and it didn't matter if someone had taken a Polyjuice Potion. The issue lay with pre-existing threats to rape me, and the event was all too fresh in my mind still. My trust had been shattered and I stammered my next sentence, "I-I will come out, but i-if anything 'appens again, I'll kill myself. You 'ave my word."

Narcissa didn't seem bothered by my dark threat. Her face showed relief as she gestured for me to go first. I slowly climbed out of the fireplace and the glass in my sleeve sliced a scalding hot cut into my skin with the awkward motion. Once I was out I flattened myself against the bricks of the exterior hearth, looking directly at Draco like he was a lion waiting to tear the flesh from my bones.

He stood far away from me with a sullen face, staring right back at me. Narcissa climbed out of the fireplace looking blackened everywhere and smacked her hands together to release the filth. Everyone in the room was covered in soot, and I imagined we could've pulled off a ruse that we were a chimney cleaning crew.

Draco pointed to my arms, "She's bound. Can you take those off of her?" He looked at his mother in a pleading way.

Narcissa's gaze followed the way my arms were tightly tugged back, "Oh yes, I suppose you'll feel better if I do it?" She looked at me with the inquisition. I nodded and turned slightly to let her see the magical cord around my arms before losing control of my footing and staggering weakly. I suddenly had a splitting headache and my vision was dull.

"She's bleeding!" Draco cried dramatically. He took several steps forward and I scrambled away just as Narcissa put her arm out to hold him back. For a moment it looked as though she was both of our mother, trying to prevent us from fighting over something ridiculous.

She waved her wand and the magical rope disappeared. I gasped and tripped, noticing that my face felt freezing. Draco shoved past Narcissa to reach out to steady me and I whipped the gigantic blade of glass out of my sleeve and held it between us. He stopped, gaping at where it had almost stabbed him in the chest. My fingers were weakly holding it and my breathing changed to a feeble wheeze.

Narcissa was livid behind Draco as she stepped around and blasted the glass out of my fingers with her wand. I collapsed to the ground in a twirl following the motion, feeling odd and lightheaded. My eyes were closing as they shook me. "She's bleeding out through her wrist," Narcissa said calmly, ripping my sleeve up. I blinked up at them. Draco clearly no longer felt the need to respect my space as he tugged me into his lap while his mother worked on my arm, petting my hair softly. She called for two elves and I shut my eyes on and off again. With my free hand I reached up to his face, meaning to point my finger at him menacingly, but he just took my hand in his mistaking the gesture.

"Tell me...et was...not you," I panted at him, seeing his face wobbling in my vision. An elf near my shoulder leaned across and it's potato sack covered one of my eyes. They were casting spells and wrapping my arm. His voice responded but I didn't hear it, and then everything was black.


	19. ﴾ That's Your Price? ﴿

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who love the drama - my apologies for how mushy the next few chapters are. Rest assured, the peace is short lived.

The sound of a snap in a fire place was the first thing I heard. I tugged at blankets around my head and gasped from the pain along my wrist, recalling now that I'd accidentally sliced up my forearm while trying to hide glass from a beaker.

I instinctively curled into a ball under the heavy covers and opened one bleary eye. I must have died; there was absolutely no way that I was in the Malfoy Manor anymore. The room was a bright pastel blue, almost white. The sheets were ivory, the curtains, everything was white or bright and pastel with gold ornamentation. My heart was lifting at the concept that I'd actually escaped via death when I noticed the same Armoire from the room before, perched elegantly in the corner. I turned my head to take in the rest of the freakishly clean and bright room, which looked as though it had specifically been designed with Paris in mind.

To my other side was another wall of windows similar to Draco's room, and all of my surviving plants were clustered and hung around it. At the foot of the gigantic bed was a tall, white fireplace where a fire was burning giving warmth to the room that was uncharacteristic to the Manor. Draco was asleep in front of it looking like he'd been hit by a train, back in the white hoodie and joggers.

Shit, I thought. This couldn't be heaven or real life. It was most definitely some fucked up room hell had made up for me, that appeared partially perfect and then they'd gone and placed a dragon in it. The night sky outside looked ready for sunrise, inklings of bright blue hues were appearing on the horizon. No, I was at the Manor. It was obvious.

I lifted my arm to inspect the damage. The bandage was long and thick around my forearm and I sighed, rubbing at my face. I felt nauseous from the horrible experiences I'd been through. I tenderly sat up and blinked around the room, noticing that I as well was in a white night slip.

My feet hit the fluffy bright carpet and I took cautious steps away from the bed, craning my neck around like a cat. Draco sat up straight and rubbed at his face, somehow already realizing I was awake, looking so tired his eyes were slightly puffy. His long fluffy hair was messy and spiky.

We both paused and he held his hand up defensively, backing into a stance, "I'm not going to hurt you." He said the words with deep sincerity and I could see the fear in his eyes that I would think otherwise.

He wasn't wrong, I'd been anxious since the moment I'd noticed him there. We looked at each other warily for minutes, him holding his hand out to gesture he meant no harm. "Where am I?" I finally asked through a sideways glance.

"Do you remember burning my room to the ground?" He asked nervously, "I renovated one of the fifth floors ones, to make it feel more at home for you."

I took it all in again in confusion, "It doesn't look like you live ‘ere too," I stated. My eyes came back to rest on him with a detached look.

He sighed and scratched his hair, "That's because...I don't. You need your space right now."

I gestured to his presence, "Sure seems like dat is working out for me well." I went to the armoire and yanked out a long silvery cloak and threw it over my tiny night slip, figuring the more clothing I had on the better.

He swallowed, trailing his eyes around the many beautiful items of furniture, "I had to make sure you were okay. You were out for multiple days." He put his hands in his pockets and looked at his socks guiltily.

I wandered around the room touching sparkly things while he watched me by chancing tiny glances, and I slowly realized that I did probably believe his innocence. I simply needed time to grow that trust into something tangible and applicable again. "I'm sorry...about burning your room. Only, ef you are innocent," I said quietly.

I watched him roll his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed and clasped his hands over his knees, "I assure you I am. And besides, I've already lost an F1 to this relationship, I'm sure I'll survive without curtains and a desk."

I shot him a puzzled look while having been pawing through the bookcase. He'd brought all of the books I'd been collecting prior. "What's an F1?" I asked.

He smirked, "A priceless car. 1998 MacLaren F1. They made just over a hundred in the series. It doesn't matter." He shrugged, as though he hadn't just spoken nonsense to me. I blanked; the car from the accident?

It was awkward as I glared at him. He knit his eyebrows together, not understanding the stand off. Finally I spoke, "I thought you despised muggles. What would you want cars for?"

He looked around the room and laughed lightly, "I don't know, just a hobby I guess."

I went into the bathroom and shut the door unapologetically. I felt no need to explain myself to him. The bathroom was a world of gold and splendor. I stood with my hands over my mouth in awe of the pure gold tiles on the wall behind the big white tub. The rain shower. All of the expensive products. I ran my hands over the plush white towels. He'd really spent an days making this room unbelievably beautiful. I couldn't decide if it was him buying me off for having done something terrible, or if he'd done it out of trying to make something right that someone else did to me.

It was then that I realized the cloak of invisibility and my wide-eyed potions were still under his sink. He'd have assumed the cloak was destroyed by the fire in the desk, effectively letting me off the hook for not returning it. I'd have to go and get the precious item the next time he left the house. It would be a handy tool for my next escape attempt.

I drew a bath and sat there for as long as I wanted. I tugged off the massive bandages on my arm and gasped at the huge central gash along the skin. The glass had managed to slice straight down the middle of my forearm by at least eight inches, and it looked like it had been deep. Thankfully the magical care had been well conducted and the scar was already almost sealed. Dozens of other slices around it in smaller lengths filled in my arm hideously.

I sighed and slowly let my arm sink into the warm water, wincing only slightly as it stung. When I finished I changed in the bathroom into a long, silky blue slip and put the silvery cloak back on top, ensuring that the door was locked. Not as though it would really stop him from coming in, but it was a statement more than anything if he did try the handle. I brushed out my hair and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked the same on the outside, but my eyes told a different story. I'd already lived a lifetime of tragedies and differing personalities in the Malfoy Manor and I felt lost.

I returned to the plush bedroom to find him sitting in the framework of the window with his knees pulled up, chewing on his nails as he watched the sunrise. He stood instantly when I came in and I stifled rolling my eyes at the mollycoddling. "You don't need to be so...sycophantic," I mumbled, feeling uncomfortable.

He looked at the floor again and I floated around in front of the fire with my hands in the deep pockets of the silver cloak dragging around behind me on the carpet. The pointy hood was over my head to shield my face from the sides and my long hair spilled out protectively. I was readying myself to ask him to leave so I could go back to sleep until the sun was up. He was acting pathetic and I wasn't in the mood to feel bad for him.

He cleared his throat, eyes still downcast, "It wasn't me, Madeleine. What do you want me from me? I have no way to prove it to you." The comment was almost snarky and I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from screaming in aggravation. What I wanted was space and time to process everything, but he obviously was used to immediate gratification and forcing people to give him what he wanted, or perhaps just buying his way.

I raised my chin to him, showing half of my face from where I was standing, "I want answers. I want de truth. Tell me about us before I was obliviated." I held my gaze with the one eye that showed beyond my hood.

He inhaled sharply and leered at me, not content with the request, "That's your price?" I could see his jaw grinding now, like he was holding back anger.

I smiled weakly, "For now, yes. Et would mean quite a lot." If he was willing to be vulnerable and tell me about our lives together before my obliviation it would be the greatest display of honesty he could give me. It would mean returning my memories to me, even if just from his perspective.

He stepped forward a few feet with his hands in his pockets, looking deeply at me with glittering blue eyes, "Please just tell me if you think I did it, first." He stopped a few feet from me and I could smell the piney scent of his skin that I'd come to know so well. His face was open and almost pleading, but he held his confidence with a slightly raised brow. 

I turned my face to him fully, frowning. I narrowed my eyes at him, "No, I don' think you did et. But I don' trust you anymore. I cannot be sure." He looked relieved with a tiny smirk and I felt instantly annoyed. I shoved him with both hands and he staggered back in shock. "Don' let it go to your head," I warned.

He held put his hands up, palms flat as though I was holding a loaded gun at him and laughed lightly, "Sure. I won't." I could tell from his face already that he would despite the request.

I glared at him for what was probably the tenth time in an hour and crossed my arms, "I want to know right now. Everything."

He sighed and cautiously made his way around me to sit at the fire. He motioned for me to sit next to him, and with a suddenly aching heart I sat a few feet from him with my legs bent to the side. I pulled my hood down from my hair and smoothed it out, watching the fire lick at the newly painted white bricks around it.

He reached his hand across to me and held it upwards against my knee, "Can...I hold your hand, princess?" He was being flirty, and I reluctantly rested mine in his giving him an odd look. He laced our fingers together. "It's an old nickname," he explained.

He chewed on his lip for a minute before snapping his fingers. Nibbles appeared, and when she saw us holding hands she instantly started tearing up. She ran to my lap and threw her arms around my neck, "Mrs. Madeleine is happy and safe! Nibbles is being so happy to see Mrs. Madeleine again. The master and Mrs. Madeleine being together is bringing Nibbles joy." I brought my hand up and rubbed her back and she jumped excitedly in her hug, her little toes dug painfully into my thigh and I squinted through it receptively.

Draco was watching with raised brows clearly surprised by how much the elf had bonded with me, and probably from the fact that she wasn't biting at all. "I'm happy to see you too, Nibs," I whispered as I pet her fleshy head with my free hand.

"She calls you Mrs. Madeleine? Nibs?" He snorted at the nicknames.

I turned my face to him with a guarded expression holding Nibbles almost like a baby, "She's my elf now, Draco. I will give her nicknames ef I want." Nibbles was indeed looking very much like a baby. Her skin had healed quite nicely and she had a vibrant pink tone, appearing healthy. I frequently shared meals with her and she was well fed. Her fingers had no bandages, and she was clean from getting baths, save for her potato sack which I sadly couldn't change out.

He laughed and shook his head with amusement at the entire scene, "Whatever...Nibs, we need gin. You have my permission to go and get some, this one time." He gave both of us a strict remark before reaching into his pocket and bringing out a set of silver keys, placing them into her now outstretched hand.

She disappeared with a pop and my arm dropped in my lap from where I'd been holding her. "Gin?" I asked incredulous.

He gave me a slight, sideways smile, tilting his head up at me, "Exclusively today, because you're completely fucking traumatized, and you've earned it. Just don't fall apart on me."

I shuffled closer to him and bit my lip, "Will you drink wit' me?" I squeezed his hand. The sun was now rising, and thick panes of golden squares were creeping towards us on the flooring from the wall of windows. It was such a bizarre hour to be awake through, and to be drinking at even more so. 

Our faces were maybe a foot apart and he started to breath heavily. He hung his eyes downwards, clearly to distract himself, "Yeah, obviously."

My heart fluttered from the closeness, and at the idea that he was finally going to open up to me about our history. I knew instinctively that I didn't believe he'd been the one to attack me. His eyes came back up to meet mine but before anything could happen Nibbles was back again. She staggered with the weight of a huge bottle of clear liquid, basically slamming it between us.

"Nibbles is being here if you is needing anything else Master Draco," she said diffidently, now noticing how close we were sitting. She was gone again with a pop.

I pulled away from him and sat back, bringing my knees up. He uncorked the bottle and sniffed it, gagging and covering his nose with the back of his hand, "I've never understood why you and Fawley have such a penchant for this shit." His eyes were nearly watering as he held it out to me without taking any.

I chugged back a big gulp and fought not to puke on myself. It was never easy the first few rounds of the salty, fiery liquid. I exhaled sharply and put it down, "You get used to et." 

He picked it up again, eyeing the contents with dread and I laughed at how disinterested he looked. "Shut up," he said and swung it upwards. He choked on it and waved his hand around as he put it down, his face contorted in distaste.


	20. ﴾ Like A Curse ﴿

Outside of the Manor, a third consecutive day of rain was pattering down against my new windows. The brightness of the room in tandem with the crackling fireplace was so perfectly mood setting in comparison to Draco's dark room. With the sunrise came an entirely new perspective into our relationship, both past and present.

I laid on my back and twirled my silky golden locks around in my fingers. He'd matched me on the carpet but his arms were crossed behind his head. He seemed anxious even after we'd taken multiple scorching shots of the gin. I was now feeling rosy and relaxed and my knees pointed towards him as I looked up at his face. He was staring at the ceiling, silent and pensive.

"So, ‘ow many memories do you ‘ave of us right now?" My voice was tiny as I approached him delicately. His bright aquamarine eyes slid down to me. 

"All of them, today," He looked back at the ceiling as though bored, "Sometimes I watch all of them, and then erase everything within a few days. I keep what I can handle, sometimes just the structure of the memory and simply erase the emotional attachment. That's a risk though."

I rolled my head on the carpet as the sky turned into a perfect rainbow blend with the rising of the sun. My room was radiant and inviting; he couldn't have done a better job. It reminded me of my room back at home in France.

I chose my words thoughtfully, "So every day, you could 'ave any combination of memories and emotions? Et es different every time you obliviate?"

He nodded and my eyes watched the movement of his sharp jawline as he ground his teeth, "It's impossible to do it the same way every time. Sometimes, when you really piss me off I wipe out quite a lot. That's when I end up coming back without much care for you and make you cry. It's hard to keep a consistent personality around you, when memories and emotions literally define our personality."

I couldn't imagine what it would be like, to have to obliviate oneself over and over. It would be akin to having dementia. Then to watch and remember them all again would be crushing, especially if you'd strayed far from your personality while walking around freshly obliviated. What a tragic cycle; part of me wondered why he even bothered keeping it up. Why not just let the memories go? It would be far less torturous.

My thoughts digressed; it made sense that he would want to hold onto who he was before. It was his only power over his life.

It was all clicking into place. I would no longer wonder why sometimes he was affectionate while others he was rough or detached. He wasn't trying to be manipulative, he was just returning as a different version of himself every time he had to erase his mind, leaving behind the parts of him that were capable of villainy.

"Does it scare you?" I asked as I rolled over and bent my arm across his chest, resting my chin on it. He stared at me through hooded eyes.

"Yes it scares me. Of course. Wouldn't it scare you?" He asked. There were notes of loneliness in his expression.

I nodded, slightly frowning. The space between us felt weighty and depressive, so I tugged at the white cord of his sweater for distraction. He slapped my hand away looking annoyed, "I don't like it when they're uneven." He was referring to the two strings at the front which drew up the hood. I watched in amusement as he held them both up in front of his face and ensured they were identical in length before letting them drop again.

The devil in me reacted instinctively and I yanked one of the cords as hard as possible, causing the hood the bunch up in a thick pile behind his neck. His eyebrows scrunched together in aggravation and I giggled childishly.

"Oh yeah, terribly funny," He sneered, sitting up and pushing me off, "So predictable. You're a complete menace." He ripped at the hood to rebalance the way it held, and I leaned forward and pulled it right over his head while laughing hysterically.

As quick as the lightning outside he yanked it off again and had my wrists locked in his fingers tightly. His platinum hair was now spiky and messy and the strings still weren't even as he pushed me down into the carpet.

"Are you done?" He challenged from where his face was mere inches from mine but his eyes had a glint of playfulness in them.

I just laid there pinned to the carpet, giggling like a schoolgirl. His eyes were searching mine as his lip curled up into a smile, "You always laughed at me."

"Because you are always so serious," I murmured flirtatiously, batting my eyelashes at him.

He breathed against my face for a moment with hesitation, then his soft lips were on mine. It was gentle and sweet and my heart shook with romantic anxiety. He had my arms pinned above my head but I could easily escape if I wanted to.

The door to my room suddenly shook with light raps pulling us out of the moment, and we both sat up with rosy cheeks. I backed up so I was closer to Draco as it timidly creaked open and Narcissa stuck her head in, "Hello, Madeleine. May I come in?"

I swallowed and nodded, running my fingers through my messy hair, now trying my hardest not to seem so drunk. I could see Draco doing similar small gestures to his clothing and hair. Our proximity must've looked very incriminating.

Narcissa floated in like a cloud, hardly touching anything as her eyes flickered across the renovations in awe, "Well, Draco perhaps you should pursue interior design." I snorted without being able to control it and Draco kicked my back from where he was situated behind me.

Narcissa's gaze landed on us huddled together by the fire and she smiled sweetly, "I see that the damage has been mitigated; I was hoping for such an outcome. I wanted to merely visit to ensure of your health and wellbeing, and apologize again for the gruesome act you were put through." She clasped her hands in front of herself nobly.

Draco stared at her blankly as though he hadn't even heard her. I leaned forward on my knees, and said in a breathy voice, "Thank you, Narcissa."

She looked briefly at the ground and I could tell there was something else coming. I wasn't prepared for anything intense and I took a few steady breaths as she straightened her spine and looked over my shoulder at Draco, "Perhaps Madeleine and I should converse briefly in private. Just for a moment dear." Her face was pale now.

"Why?" Draco asked suspiciously from behind me and I turned to see how he'd narrowed his eyes at his mother, "Just spit it out."

She glared at him sternly before flickering her eyes to me with an inquisitorial gesture. It was difficult to judge properly if I wanted him there, but his energy behind me felt aggressive and demanding.

Narcissa sat on the cream colored chaise at the end of my bed and stretched her arms down to her knees looking stiff. She squared her gaze on me and got straight to the point, "Right then. When you were attacked, was there any penetration? Did anything happen that would result in an unwanted pregnancy? We need to know so we can act quickly." 

My heart dropped a few floors in my chest and I instantly wished Draco had not been in the room. He was off of his feet in moments with his hand on his mouth as if he couldn't bear to hear it.

Narcissa seemed to have already guessed this reaction would occur as she watched him pace, "Draco, this conceivably would be a good time to leave. Madeleine is alright with me."

He was now pushing his hair back from his face, "It doesn't matter, because she wasn't. She wasn't." He looked at me with a flushed face and distraught eyes, his voice now several pitches higher, "Were you?"

My eyes flickered between the two Malfoy's before me, watching intently, "No! No I was not. I lit everything on fire before 'e-before 'e could..." I felt sick even explaining it out loud. Narcissa looked uneasy, as though she didn't believe me.

"Madeleine, you know you may always come to my door should you have anything further to say." She stood and gave Draco a serious look.

He shook his head and the uneven strings hanging from his hoodie flew around, "What else would she have to say? Do you think she's lying in my presence?" I'd had enough.

I stood and balled my fist and both of their eyes warily shot to the assertive body language, probably worried about a secondary fire, "I was not penetrated. 'e was lucky to get out without being burnt to death."

Narcissa straightened her dress, "Well now, let's not get worked up. I believe you. We may all rest easy knowing that you are a powerful young witch who is capable of charring your opponents. Please, enjoy your day together. As you were." She nodded at both of us and let herself out.

I didn't hesitate; I pounced on Draco and wrapped my arms around his neck in an air depleting bear hug. His arms squeezed me tight around my waist and we just swayed drunkenly in each other's arms while the rain came down outside. The smell of his body and his sweater was intoxicating. "It wasn't like dat," I reassured him for the third time, balancing on my tip toes.

"Okay," was all he said in a strained voice. His cheek was warm against mine as we shut our eyes and held each other. 

It was a solid minute before he buried his face in my neck and whispered, "I love you. No matter how many times I lose it, it will inevitably come back, with or without the memories. You're like a curse." His hands were tugging at my clothing nervously as he said it.

I pushed a compassionate kiss into his cheek before slipping down onto my flat feet and then went to the window, pressing my fingertips to the foggy glass. He let me go hesitantly, his fingers slipping through my cloak as I drifted away.

I couldn't give him what he wanted yet; I couldn't reciprocate it. I only had limited memories of our time together and they were all recent and distressed by trauma. It wasn't that I didn't feel an overpowering, crushing amount of emotions for him, but it was too early given everything that had now happened. There was also the fact that he might be feeling that way currently, but perhaps the next time he came back he wouldn't feel it again. The thought of giving into him and admitting my love only to be on and off rejected was terrifying.

"I want to go outside," I blurted, as he readjusted the strings on his hoodie a third time. The growling of the thunder and the smell of fresh dirt and greenery was calling me. I wanted to get muddy and dance in the rain and live in the moment.

He was shaking his head and rubbing his forehead, "Absolutely not. Can't you see the torrential downpour right before your eyes?" He pointed at the windows as though they had just appeared before us to provide proof of the weather.

The rain was coming down hard no doubt about that. Five stories below on the ground the mud of spring was welling up and running in all directions on the pathways. I opened the window, relieved that mine actually had a latch and handle allowing me to. The sound of thunder grumbled into the room and my face was instantly sprayed with humid water droplets. The beautiful, aromatic smell of spring blew inwards with force.

I spun around, barely avoiding tripping on some of my potted plants. My silver cloak flowed around me ridiculously, "Please, I want to drink more gin and dance in de rain!"

His eyes glazed over as he watched me spin. "We can't go out there, we'll get soaked," he whined, taking another shot of the gin as though he already knew he was going to lose.

I was busy shuffling through my armoire looking for something that resembled a raincoat, without regarding his complaints. When I couldn't find anything I turned around to him pouting. I wandered back to the fireplace and took another shot as well. "You still 'ave not told me much about us from before, should we do dat' instead?" I boldly questioned, raising a fist to my lips as the liquid burned my tongue and throat threatening to make me sick.

He visibly rolled his eyes, "That's my two options? Get soaked or summarize our entire history together?" His cheeks were flush with drunkenness. He hung onto the fireplace mantle with one strong hand and chewed his lip, looking down at his socks in contemplation, "Very well. Let's go outside Madeleine. What the fuck you expect us to do out there is beyond me." He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, eyeing me down.

I smiled with my lips pressed together, knowing my next statement would increase his aggravation, "I don' 'ave anything to wear in the de rain."

"Then why are we doing this?" He barked and I watched his eyes darken. When I just shrugged he sighed exaggeratively, "Mother will have something. Come." He held out his hand and I dared not reject it. We walked in the hallways upwards, towards the highest floors. I had to pick up my dress with my free hand to follow him without tripping.

Now on the seventh and final floor of the towering structure, we reached two large double doors at the end of the upper hallway - carved monolithic stone sheets with the same Malfoy crest across them that was waving on the back of my neck. Draco sighed again, looking dreadful. He knocked on the door and in a few moments Narcissa opened it with a surprised reaction.

Her eyes drifted briefly to where our hands were entwined, then she faced Draco with curiosity, "I do hope this isn't a follow up to our earlier conversation."

"Madeleine..." He shut his eyes in embarrassment, "Madeleine wants to go outside in the rain. Do you have appropriate clothing for her to wear?" I had the sense that he was despising the interaction entirely.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows, "For what purpose are you going outside? It's terribly stormy."

Draco rolled his neck and exhaled, "For...it doesn't matter. Can you dress her?"

Narcissa reached out and took my other hand with a positively sly grin on her face as she dismissed her son. She evidently found the entire affair highly entertaining, "Not a problem Draco, I'll have her in the lobby shortly." She guided me into the master chambers and closed the stone doorway with an aching thud that echoed around the room.

We made our way down an adjacent hallway and she pushed open a green doorway into a massive walk-in closet. She started to paw through valuable and lavish fabrics, brushing aside several black coats.

I stood near the doorway taking in the impressive collection of designer items. "My son has quite an endearment for you," she stated calmly while pushing things aside. "He's never been one to drink in the middle of the day, design a room to be tastelessly bright, or go outside for leisure when it is raining. I hope you realize he would withhold no expense for you." She paused her movement, and her eyes trailed on me over her shoulder dominantly, almost threateningly, and I smiled uncomfortably.

She pulled down a blue coat with a huge hood, that looked like dyed dragonshide. It was likely worth more than half of my personal possessions back at home, and that was saying a lot. She held it out to me with a blank expression, "This should be acceptable. I am painfully aware of your predilection for the color blue." 

"It's quite expensive, isn't it?" I asked nervously.

She stepped forward still holding it out, "Not for a Malfoy. You will eventually realize that we are required to uphold a certain level of decorum, and that we have more than the means to do so." Her oceanic eyes bored into mine and I reached out to take the coat.

Her eyes glinted then, and once my fingers were wrapped around the apparel she took the opportunity to tug me towards her sharply so that our faces were a foot apart, "I will say this, now that we are alone - I don't harbor any negative perceptions of you Madeleine, other than your lack of formality. You will however, find that I am quite capable of defending my son if I feel he is threatened. You will not be the cause of his death, nor his heartbreak. Do I make myself clear?" In that moment in the dim lighting of the walk-in closet she appeared lethal for the first time and I was sorely aware that she was very protective of Draco. 

I nodded vigorously, "Yes, of course, I understand." I swallowed in newly blossomed fear of Narcissa, who up until that point had acted as if a quiet piece of furniture within the Manor and mainly avoided me at every opportunity. 

She gave me the coat willingly then and sent me a sickly sweet smile, "Splendid. You may keep this - I've never worn it."


	21. ﴾ Potter Is Weak ﴿

Down in the lobby Draco was leaning against the pillar nearest the gigantic front entrance, playing with the military watch again. In the darkness of the bleak interior the green light shone on his pointy features below his hood. His eyes looked beady as they flickered between the various dials and settings. He'd put on some kind of thin black jacket, still somehow looking sharp and proper, and the huge hood was pulled right up over his platinum hair.

I'd ran back to my room and put on tall silver boots and the insane jacket Narcissa had gifted me. When I reached the final staircase he looked up briefly with irritation to take in my boots hitting the floor as I ran to him. I threw my arms around his waste, pulling him off balance as he struggled to maintain his focus on the watch face.

I pulled his face down and kissed him passionately, breaking his efforts to stay composed, "Wow, okay-" he said between kisses and gave in to the sentiment. He eventually held me away from him by my shoulders, staring at my face, "You're not too fucked up, right? Because we can just stay inside-"

"No!" I griped, "Let's go out, it's so lovely. I adore thunderstorms." I spun on the spot in the extravagant coat and pulled him to the doorway.

Outside the rain pattered against newly formed leaves and the weathered stones of low garden walls. The acrid scent of new life and rich soil sweltered around us as we walked down the path into the gardens. Draco had his hands in his pockets the entire time, looking fairly disgusted by the mud he had to step in to follow me around the forgotten gardens and hedges. I paused many times to touch dripping plants and point out their properties to him, eager to share my knowledge. He looked uninterested as he nodded his head in silent observation.

I was entirely enthralled by the landscape that had been so long abandoned. The gardens went on seemingly exponentially and consisted of fruit bearing trees, blossoming varieties of cutting flowers, unique specimens, trimmed hedges, magical and natural plants galore.

The potential was unmatched. "I'll revitalize it all. Nibbles and I, we can work out here every season until it's glorious again," I mused as I stopped to smell a huge yellow flower that was blossoming and he smiled feebly. Several times as we walked I tugged his face to mine for rainy, wet kisses. He was agreeable to it, and I would feel his hands pull me closer by my waste, our hoods hanging between us and dropping water into our hair.

We'd been wandering around for a good forty minutes, now in the orchards when he cleared his throat. I turned to look at him, and he pressed a flask into my hands, "We need to talk about something...serious, Madeleine. Just take some shots first, we can go sit in the old wellhouse and review things."

I analyzed the silver container in my hands in confusion. The rain dripped from both of our hoods as I met his pale gaze, his eyes appeared gray in the stormy day. His face gave away that he was devastated about whatever he needed to bring up. "What's going on?" I asked, my heart picking up speed in a familiar, queasy way.

His lips were pressed into a thin line and he encouraged my hand towards my face, "Everything is alright, a few things just need to change going forward. Now that you know what you know, you've gained back some...independence."

I took a gulp of gin not breaking eye contact and held it out to him. He took one too and gave it straight back to me, shoving it into my chest harshly, "For once, I don't think you should be shy with this." Then he was walking out of the gardens and I tagged along feeling suddenly numb. As the hedges cleared I noticed a decrepit stone building ahead in the field. It was tall and thin, resembling the corner tower of a castle laying detached and upright. There was an arched opening in the front of it that was at least two stories tall, and he drifted listlessly inside to the center where lay ancient looking bricks in a circular orientation with a hole in the middle. Icy, pungent smelling air wafted out of the opening in the ground that was apparently quite deep.

With the covering of the well house in the cavernous room, I pulled my hood off and stared down the ambiguous void. Draco's hand clamped down onto my bent elbow as if he didn't trust me not to topple in head first, which was a fair assumption considering I was now staggering slightly from the gin he'd encouraged me to consume on the walk there.

He encouraged me into a sitting position on the floor of soft hay, with our backs to the stones. We both stared out at the field before us where random, massive trees covered in moss drank in the rain and long strands of unkempt grass swayed.

He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him, the smell of pine infusing the air around us. He sighed heavily and I felt his breath on my cheek, "My mother and I feel it is not safe for you at the Manor given recent events. It was my father that procured the attack on you, and he won't stop there. He thinks you're not obedient or useful and I can't always be here to protect you."

I watched the rain drops dripping from the bricks around the opening to the well house, suddenly aching with a recognizable feeling of rejection, "So...where are you sending me? You're coming wit' me, right?" My voice came out sounding so much more wounded than I intended and he leaned his head against mine as we watched the rain come down. His hair was flopping slightly into my vision over my forehead and I brushed it away trying not to cry.

"No, I can't. You'll be safer acting as an informant amongst the resistance. It will show my father that you are a strong ally, and it will keep you two apart until this war is over." He swallowed loudly, "Potter is weak; he'll take you in without asking questions and keep you safe. It's already arranged; you for Zabini. A trade. He's of the impression you're a prisoner here."

I felt tears springing into my eyes uncontrollably, and the torment in my next words went unmasked, "I don' want to go, Draco. I want to stay wit' you." I tugged at his shirt through his open jacket as the panic engulfed me. I heard myself begin to pant as my lungs jutted angrily in my rib cage.

He nodded, "That's perfect. That's all I need to know. We just have to trust each other and stay alive. When it's over you can come back here." I turned into his neck, sobbing now. We had only begun to understand each other. The love and the trust had finally been coming back.

"I hope you don't think that I'm abandoning you," He whispered.

I shook my head and took in a deep, unsteady breath against his hood, "I don' think dat'. When-when? When are you trading me?" My fingers were so tangled in his sweater that it was tugging him into me. A frog leapt across the opening of the well house without any sense of our nearby tragedy.

His voice was groggy as he spoke through a tight throat, "You have to leave in two days."

"I cannot do dis." My breathing was now ragged as I sat up away from him and tugged my knees to my chest, trying to focus on a mossy planetree a short distance away, "I can't do dis without you."

He wiped a few straying tears away from his eyes with his palm, "Sure you can, Madeleine. You'll still see me, to report on him every week." There was a long pause in the discussion as he waited for me to calm down.

"He's suspicious, so you need to be resourceful around him. Just don't fucking sleep with him." The last sentence changed his entire voice. It came out harsh, resentful and threateningly.

My head rotated dramatically in his direction and we stared at each other's despaired faces for a moment. "You really think I would?" I asked spitefully, "Tell me now, was der ever a 'istory between 'arry and I?" The question hung in the humid air as Draco inhaled rapidly and his face hardened. He glared at his fingers in his lap, rotating his silver rings.

"Not that I know of. But I am aware that he was attempting to materialize a relationship. Allowing such a transpiration is ill-advised; you know I won't be forgiving. It would give me little choice but to do something...drastic." The words were biting now and I saw a glimpse of his obliviated self; possessive, cruel, and impatient. His bright blue eyes had a familiar dangerous gleam and his nose was pulled up in a sneer. He was incredibly effected by Harry Potter that much was clear. The hatred seeped off of him in invisible waves.

I gaped, opening and closing my mouth as I struggled to chose my words with intricacy. He continued to stare into his lap, fuming about some faraway concept. Suddenly I spoke without constraint, "I love you too, Draco. You 'ave nothing to worry about wit' 'arry Potter." 

I shut my eyes harshly in immediate embarrassment. I thought surely my heart had just dissolved in my body from the elation and terror of saying the massive statement out loud. I flickered my eyes everywhere as I made my way up to his in horror. I hadn't expected to say it just then my but my body had literally expelled the words against my will.

"Do you mean that?" He asked through hooded eyes, his face looked empty. He was watching me like a predator, searching for signs of weakness.

I was trembling now, "Yes. I do." I reached for his hand in his lap.

He was evaluating my expression and it felt more like an interrogation all of a sudden. There was no sound save for the clinking and splattering of rain and wind. "You've never said that before," he admitted finally.

"Well...I'm saying it now. I love you." I found enough confidence to say it gracefully and my hand drifted up to his neck as I leaned in and kissed him. He smiled against my lips and his arms pulled me into him. We kissed with rough passion as it escalated rapidly, now feeling more connected to each other than ever before.

He pushed my jacket down and I shook my arms out of it. "It's freezing," I whispered between kisses, not sure of how far we were really going to go in a well house in May.

"Don't worry, I'll warm you up," he said in a deep voice, ripping his own jacket off. He reached both hands behind his head and tore the white hoodie off in one move and my eyes glued themselves to his fit physique. He laughed lightly, "You always stare at me like that."

I bit my lip as I pulled him back into my arms. "Is it really dat shocking?" I whispered against his lips. He started bunching my dress up, his fingers were wild under the fabric as he gathered the garment and pulled away from my face to lift it off. I let him guide my arms up and suddenly I was naked in the hay in just panties, feeling timid in the opening of the well house.

He shoved me back by pressing his hand against my chest and pushing hard. I fell into the hay as he pulled off his joggers and then pressed himself over me, between my legs. He hovered to admire my chest with raised brows. "I'm really going to miss these," he teased in a breathy voice.

My fingers were impatiently pulling at his boxers, "I want you right now." He had stooped to kiss along my neck and jaw line when my hand made it's way into the black boxers and I stroked him sensually. He began to shake over me and moan into my neck. I was throbbing so hard I couldn't focus on anything else but getting him inside of me.

He seemed to be on the same page; his hand made it's way down and pulled the fabric down. His fingers shoved my panties aside as he teased my clit. My head rolled to the side in ecstasy, hardly noticing that the frog from earlier had taken shelter within the well house opening mere feet away from us. It watched with juvenile understanding of the debauchery before it.

Then he was pulling away from me and his kisses trailed between my breasts. His spikey hair was over my belly button and his fingers had looped themselves around either side of my panties when I realized what he was doing. "Non!" I yelped shyly, pulling at his hair.

He looked up at me with hazy eyes, "You're not even going to let me try?"

"Try?" I panted in bewilderment, "'ave you never gone down before?"

He smirked, "You're the only girl I've ever been with. So no, not yet." My heart was fluttering with anxiety. The fact that he'd never done it before almost made it worse.

"I don' think you'll like et," I murmured nervously.

"I'll decide that," he said, waiting for me to give in to his typical demanding stare. I laid my head back into the hay submissively and stared at the ceiling several meters above me. There were ropes and pulley's dangling there from another era. I tried to focus on how they were connected to each other as he slid my final piece of clothing off. My back arched instinctively as he kissed down the inside of my leg, gripping both of my thighs tightly and I shut my eyes trying to ignore my humiliation.

His lips reached my core and I bit my lip still wincing as he began using his tongue in ways that seemed particularly practiced. It couldn't be that he'd never done it before and I let a moan slip that I instantly regretted. I opened my eyes to look at the frog and concentrate on the fact that I was letting him do it as practically a favor. It wasn't as though he would have another chance to do it unless we were suddenly unfaithful to each other.

He was now using his fingers and his tongue and I cried out as ripples of sensations shot through my body. I tugged at his long hair and he finally came back to me. He kissed me again, pushing his nose into mine and I felt him entering into my soaking core without hesitation. We both groaned, now quite familiar with the rhythm of each other's bodies. The rain had picked up it's intensity, now a seemingly solid sheet of downpour that was misting into the well house. Our naked forms entwined erotically and hungrily for the other.

He pulled sharply on my golden hair so my head would move to the side and kissed my neck and shoulder. "Say it again," he begged.

"I love you, Draco," I answered in a throaty voice, digging my nails into his back and with that he dug harder and deeper. He found my face again and we jammed our tongue's against each others. When I couldn't contain my peak anymore I cried out loud, suddenly aware that I was no longer under the pregnancy protection charm and that we were being reckless. He came with me as he always did, kissing me painfully hard.

Under the safety of the well house we came to a stop, naked and wild in the hay. The bullfrog by the doorway croaked awkwardly as though it felt violated by what it had witnessed. He kissed my forehead and we closed our eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the love between us.


	22. ﴾ Pensieve ﴿

When we were shaking off our soaked coats in the Manor lobby the mood had become quiet and thoughtful between us. Everything was about to change yet again in the coming days. Draco waited patiently by the stairs for me to get my muddy boots off, leaning against the stair newel with a bored expression. 

I put on my slippers and twisted my fingers anxiously by the doorway. He narrowed his eyes knowingly, "What is it now?" 

I sucked on my bottom lip guiltily, still feeling woozy from all of the shots I'd taken in the last hour. I let my eyes fall onto the stone slabs of the flooring as though there was something quite interesting to be seen in the details of the rock. "I want to see de memories for myself. De ones in de dungeons." 

He stepped down from the stair he was on, "So you do you know about the pensieve. I had my suspicions after I found you outside of the doorway." 

I nodded, "I want to watch dem. I want to know about us before, since you clearly don' want to talk about it."

He sighed loudly and I looked up to see that he had his hands in his pockets and his eyes jammed shut. The nervous dread on his face told it all. "It's not all happy, you know," he quietly offered, "I'd rather you let me pick the ones you see if we do go down there."

I crossed my arms, "Dat's not suspicious at all."

He gradually met my eyes with uneasiness, "I wasn't the best boyfriend. Let's put it that way."

"I need to know our story, _my_ story, good or bad," I quipped. 

He groaned loudly and hung his back, staring up at the three story roof above. His jaw looked sharp in the posture as he considered the dangers of bringing me to relive our past. I felt a dull ache in the form of hope that he would cave in. It felt like it was my last chance to see them and regain the years of lost knowledge.

He finally spoke in a dark voice. His eyes were glazed in irritation when he looked back down at me, "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. If this leads to trivial fights over events that occurred years ago that would be most unfortunate, let's put it that way." He nodded his head curtly to follow him and he moved quickly down the hallway to the abandoned wing.

I grabbed my outdoor boots and ran after his tall figure as he swept through the Manor authoritatively. We walked through the frigid abandoned wing, down the familiar hallway, past the portraits and the room where I'd hidden in the fireplace, past the potions lab, and straight to the slick stone stairs leading to the dungeons. I stopped to lean on the wall and change into my boots again with anticipation of the disgusting environment ahead. He didn't wait for me, and I could tell he was upset about having to go there in his haste and absentminded expression.

At the end of the stairs he stopped abruptly at the iron gate and spun to face me with a stern look. "You already know what's ahead. This isn't going to be pleasant - just try to avoid looking anywhere but where you're stepping."

Then he unlocked the gate and went through, reaching back to tangle his fingers in my cloak directionally. I let him pull me forward into the absolutely foul air, holding my arm up under my nose and coughing slightly. He continued to guide me through the darkness with his wand pointed ahead of us, a small orb of light floating off the tip the only brightness in the abyss around us. I kept my eyes glued on his white sweater desperately. He kept pausing to gag but this time he managed to push beyond the worst part at the beginning without hurling.

We'd made it halfway down the pathway when a rat scampered out of the blackness and across my boots. It had a chunk of disintegrating flesh between it's incisors as it climbed over my boot in slow motion. I stepped back rapidly with a shriek and his fingers slipped out of my clothing. I had to steady myself on the wall for a moment before he swung the light around to find me again and grabbed my sleeve. 

The small corridor leading to the sarcophagus appeared after several minutes of walking and we both visibly showed relief in our gaits as we slowed down and breathed deeper on the stone transition. I paused to cling to the bars of the blackened skeleton's cage, "Who is dis, Draco?" I pointed at the ancient bones with curiosity.

He rolled his eyes and a faint curl of his lip suggested he found the story funny, "That, would be Walter Powell. Some muggle in the British Parliament. He landed on this property in 1881 in a fucking hot air balloon. My ancestors apparently did not find it amusing. They locked him down here and forgot about him."

I stared at the skeleton in it's tattered gray suit, wondering why on earth anyone would land on the Malfoy property in a balloon. It must have been an unfortunate accident. 

Draco had pulled out the knife from his pocket and was slicing his arm in a new place, then dipped his fingers in the hot blood that began to seep from the wound and spread it across the doorway. The entry way responded with positivity to the ancestral blood offering and swung in with a horrific creaking. 

He walked around to the bowl and put both of his hands on either side of the sarcophagus apprehensively. His eyes trailed after me, his face lit up from the bright fog of the bowl before him. I was acutely aware of his timid demeanor and unwillingness to be there. He offered no further guidance forward as I ran my fingers over the stone grave supporting the pensieve.

"Who is buried here?" I whispered, staring down at the Malfoy crest carved amateurly into the ancient stone.

"Armand Malfoy, the founder of the estate," he quickly replied in a stale tone. His thumb played at the edge of the tomb thoughtfully, "He was an obliviation master. I supposed I have him to thank for my abilities."

All of my theories had been true then, about the grave there and the obliviation genetics within the Malfoy blood line. He was watching my face with trepidation as my gaze fell on the moonstone. 

He cut through my thoughts before I could even speak, "I know what you're going to ask, but I can't give it back to you. It's value is absolutely paramount. You gave it to me with a promise that I'd always have your heart, and sometimes I feel like my humanity is tied to it." His eyebrows pushed together with guilt as he met my face again. 

I darted back and forth between the glass cage and his hopeful, pleading face. I opened my mouth to speak but just inhaled deeply, wondering if I needed to push him for it back right away. He'd proven himself to be plenty respectful in the recent past. He'd made substantive sacrifices for me and gone out of his way to make me comfortable. I was now in love with him, and he was as much my family as my parents or brother, making him a reasonable safe keeper of the stone. I shot him a sad smile, "I suppose for now, I won't ask for it back. As long as I know you will keep it safe."

Immense relief washed over his pretty features and he hung his head down dangerously close to the bowl's mist, still leaning on the tomb. I knew the experience of bringing me to the room of memories was quite draining for him. His shoulders looked pointy under the white hoodie as he clung to the stone surface before him.

I walked around the table and ran my eyes over the various labels on the vials and he turned defensively to watch my selection. There were hundreds of them, labelled in pristine order by dates and names and subtitles. I grinned as my fingers trailed over the vials with appreciation at his sharp thinking and clean organization. 

"When did you start collecting dese Draco?" I asked, my fingers pinned to dates that would've occurred well before he even met me.

His reply was wistful, "A long time ago, in my sixth year at Hogwarts. When my parents started to change, and the dark lord was rising again. I knew what was coming well in advance - my father tried to beat the sensitivity out of me in anticipation of the dark mark branding. This was an easy solution."

I moved down the racks and my hand shot to my mouth as I started noticing vials with my name and descriptions on them. He stood from where he was leaning against the bowl as I neared these. I felt his fingers dancing on my waist as he pressed up against me with nervous breathing. 

I pulled down the very first one with my name on it, dated on the first day of school in eighth year. It read, _Hogwarts - Madeleine - Meeting Her._ I turned my face to look at his over my shoulder and noticed how rosy his cheeks were. 

He took it out of my fingers and held it too high for me to reach it, "Pick another one. This one isn't great." He was giving me a serious look over the bridge of his pointy nose.

I laughed and he winced slightly, "Why? It's de day we met." My fingers reached helplessly up his long arm for the glass.

He gave me a blank stare, "Because, it's embarrassing. You hit on me and I acted pathetic. And there was an accident with an ink spill.. just pick another one."

I barked out loud before I could clap a hand over my face. My smile was ear to ear as I tried in vain not to laugh any further at how sheepish he looked.

"Okay, very well... You'll have to show me all of dem someday," I cooed, tapping his nose teasingly with my finger. He swerved away too late to avoid it and flitted his eyes at the ceiling sarcastically. 

I scanned a few more down, all with my name on them. I spotted my next victim that read _Hogwarts - Madeleine - First Kiss._ I grabbed it quickly and closed both hands around the vial before he could object. He leaned around me with wide eyes. "What one did you just take?" he demanded. With the way he was chaperoning the whole affair it felt as though I was going through his underwear drawer. 

I tilted my head backwards against his chest, "First kiss. This one is a must." I bit my lip up at him with a huge smile. 

He shook his head to the side and his long platinum hair swung with the motion, "Oh, god." He had the same expression on his face that people made when everyone in the room sang Happy Birthday to them. 

I swirled out of his grip and bounced at the bowl, "Will you show me 'ow to do et?" 

He stood beside me tensely and held out his hand. I decided to trust him and put the bottle in his fingers, and watched as he poured it carefully into the lethargic fog that was rolling out of the liquid below. The fog hummed and began producing a green color. His open palm was on the back on my skull as he pushed my face into the bowl. 

I found myself falling through the sky towards an unfamiliar Quidditch pitch with four distinct different colors on the posts around the perimeter. The motion was horrifying and I screamed in the memory world as the grass shot towards my face at an alarming rate. My body hovered for a split second before I hit the ground softly and looked up, almost directly into my own eyes. 

A younger version of myself with blond braids woven down both sides of her face was coughing and wheezing in a Quidditch uniform directly across from me like there was a mirror between us. Her face was now filthy with dirt, yet she still appeared determined and beautiful.

"This isn't the circus, Desrosiers. You're cheap tricks won't help you out here. Get up," I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see a younger Draco hovering above us on a black broom, tossing a bludger up and down. He looked cruel and detached, yet he had an air of sweetness to him that I hadn't seen in my Draco. This Draco hadn't been through the same level of trauma and it showed in his energy and the smile on his face. 

I waved my hand in front of my younger self's face but she didn't react to seeing me as her eyes shone directly through me, trying not to puke from some kind of impact. I realized I was merely a visitor to the memory, a ghost if you will. She pushed up onto her knees proudly, "You - play dirty, Malfoy. I was - waiting."

I looked around the pitch, wondering why there was no one else besides younger Madeleine and younger Draco there. Was this some kind of private Quidditch practice? They both had on Slytherin uniforms and the chest filled with Quidditch gear was open nearby.

"Precisely. Never assume you can let your guard down, Frenchie." I watched as she stood weakly on her feet, raising her chin at him defiantly while he disembarked his broom and smirked down at her. The chemistry was unbelievable. I sucked on my lips expecting them to kiss right then and there. He just pressed on with sneering comments, "This is Hogwarts. This is where champions are made. No more games, can you actually fly competitively?"

I turned my head to take in the time of day it was, startled at how early they had met. The sun hadn't even fully rose yet. She had made some kind of defensive comment and he batted back with suggesting they see what she could do in the air. I watched as his hands aggressively played with her hair then they were off into the sky, twisting around my head at a near 90 degree angle to watch him throw things at her, test her speed by chasing her... it went on for quite a while. 

Finally when I had given up expecting to see anything tangible I was shocked by a chaotic crash. She had flown directly into him and they hurtled towards the ground with a deft thud. She was on him, pinning him to the ground aggressively and whispering something in his ear. I ran across the pitch to where they had fallen only to almost stumble into his memory form as he scrambled away from her in a panic.

"You're such a freak!" He screamed. I watched as they argued back and forth, but his composure was lessening by the second as my younger self kept closing the gap on him, untying her hair seductively and batting her eyes at him. It was then when they were arguing about the inappropriate way that she'd tailored her Quidditch uniform to fit unnaturally tight that I realized how much a fox she was being. She was intentionally coming onto him, and he looked terrified and cornered. Eventually he stopped backing up and she reached him, sliding her arms around his neck. 

"No, I can't," he said, pulling her arms downwards. It looked awkward suddenly as her face fell from the rejection. I felt empathy for them both, knowing I'd repeated that exact same face with him the night of the ballroom in contemporary reality. They whispered a few other lines back and forth before I heard him say, "Fuck it." He pulled her into a passionate kiss and they ripped at each other, their green Quidditch robes blowing around them in the early morning sun. 

Then as quickly as they had begun he seemed to panic as she reached down towards his trousers. He mounted his broom and left, and I felt myself being tugged away from the memory and back to reality. 

I looked up at Draco who was watching me intently, his blue eyes absolutely glowing in the presence of the bowl. He had his fingers on his chin and the green digital images of the watch on his wrist were twisted towards me. 

"Well, now you know how much a pretentious prick I was," he drawled, never breaking eye contact. 

I wrapped my arms around him, "You still are, don' worry. But I am so glad I was so bold, otherwise I wouldn't 'ave you today."

He stood awkwardly in the hug, patting my hair like I was a toddler hugging him that he was unrelated to. "My father was forcing me into a different arrangement. You were an unstoppable force though, you had me breaking every rule. You won me over that day. After that, I couldn't stop thinking about kissing you." 

I pulled away from him and ran back to the wall while he collected the memory back into it's vial. I recalled suddenly his infatuation with the one named _Moonstone_ and my eyes scoured the endless glass jars for the familiar verbiage. I gave up when I couldn't locate it and moved back to the original line and stopped with my mouth open. _Hogwarts - Madeleine - Virginity._

I snatched it and ran back to the bowl as he was corking the previous vial. He looked down at the one I had chosen and completely turned around with his face in his hands, clearly floored with humiliation. He groaned loudly, "I knew you would pick that one." He held his hand out without turning fully around and I placed the glass in it, watching as he shook the liquid out into the bowl for me. 

I stuck my head into the vapors and suddenly I was in a dark room filled with people in costumes. There was a green fireplace against one wall, and a bubbling cauldron spilling purple fog against a wall of glass that seemed to give a perfect view into a body of water beyond. It was obviously Halloween given the way that people were drinking and dressed up. The party was raging obnoxiously and my ghost form was constantly bombarded with passersby moving straight through me in the densely packed room. 

Draco was right in front of me chatting loudly with the Slytherin boys who'd been to the Manor recently. He was making no effort to blend in with the festivities, wearing a black long sleeved shirt and black joggers.

He was shaking his head, flushed, looking high as a kite and very drunk. He sipped on a drink deeply, "Nah, she's just being a tease. She doesn't really mean it. I mean she's hot as _fuck_ though. It's flattering." He smirked sideways, handsomely, and jabbed his elbow into the boy I recognized as Blaise Zabini, who smirked back knowingly.

Another boy with awfully jutting teeth laughed menacingly, "Why don't we just see how much she means it, Draco? About time you got it in with a girl," He tapped at a glass vial filled with white powder, adding it to multiple drinks before them. They all took drinks and downed them entirely, save for a few of the drugged cups which remained full at the side. The boy finished chugging his drink and pointed at the remaining drinks, "Take one for her too. Maybe then she'll let you know how she really feels."

Draco eyed the drinks, his eyes looking hooded all of a sudden, "Not really sure that's necessary, Warrington." He shook out his hair, his eyes suddenly turning black with the drugs he'd just consumed. His face suddenly changed to shock as he processed the state of high he'd just reached. I watched as his eyes widened and his fingers played with his collar.

Blaise leaned towards him, "Did Madeleine really kiss you?"

He snorted back at him, "Oh yeah. She's a complete nutter. Tackled me out of the air. I hardly made it out of the pitch before she had her hands in my pants." His eyes glazed over with a small, telling grin and Blaise raised his eyebrows, sipping at his drink. It was obvious that Draco had no problem with the encounter that he was trying to pass off as unwanted.

One of the other boys poked at Draco, "What about Greengrass? Are you not marrying that wench? Looked pretty fucked up just now." He had a wicked eyebrow high in the air with entertainment.

Draco's face fell into disgust, "Don't ruin my night, Montague."

Another boy pointed towards an entrance to a set of stairs and his arm went straight through my ghostly chest, startling me backwards, "Look! There she is!"

They all turned and I gasped, watching the Fawley girl emerge from the archway shoving people aside and behind her, myself, wearing an icy dragon costume. I looked highly inebriated, but incredibly stunning. I'd clearly spent hours getting ready. My hair flowed like bright rivers over my shoulders, my face and neck painted with glittering white and blue makeup to look like perfect scales. My dress was super form fitting and long, my breasts pronounced favorably high.

One of the boys smacked the nearby table, "I'm telling you Draco, if you don't make a move I will."

Draco scowled at him and his eyebrows furrowed in a familiar fashion, "Alright Flint, watch me." He put his empty cup down and started shoving through people and I followed, watching as his arm darted out to grab mine dramatically and my figure spun in shock into his arms.

My younger self glared up at him and an argument immediately began. She seemed to suddenly feel isolated with him, looking around herself in confusion. They bickered for a minute, both flushed and wasted, before he reached forward and pulled her towards him by her waist and gripping her chin. She stared up at him with an unmasked desire sketched into her features.

The tension was cut by the boys from before barreling through the crowd with the remaining drugged cups in their hands like liquid bombs. They threw their arms around Draco obnoxiously, seemingly unaware of younger Madeleine who stood there gawking at their behavior. Then the boy with terrible teeth held out drugged drinks to Draco. As soon as they'd arrived they left, and I watched in surprise as younger Madeleine grabbed a drink from Draco's fingers and downed it without knowledge.

The younger Draco looked stunned, like he had no idea what to do in the given circumstances. He drank the other spiked drink as well to my surprise, and soon they were kissing, unable to contain the flow of the evident euphoria. Their make out was unparalleled; it was nearly pornographic.

I watched as Champagne was soon poured over their heads by the boy named Warrington, who had returned like a wrath. Then they decided to run into the girl's lavatory, where they kicked everyone out. This part became especially interesting. I watched younger Madeleine hover awkwardly and drunkenly by the sinks as Draco slammed all of the stalls open to ensure no one else was in the room. 

Then they were kissing passionately at the sinks, pausing only to whisper breathy remarks at each other and to tear his shirt off. They took further shots from a flask he took out of his pants. Suddenly he was ripping her underwear down, then his own and I was sure they had already started when he pulled away from her hardly, eyeing her down. I had a hand over my mouth in disbelief at his awkwardness. He was usually incredibly confident and dominating with me, whereas this Draco was nervous and immature.

"You sure? Don't take this lightly. This isn't a thoughtless commitment you're about to make," he was saying, his eyes intently focused on her face. Innocence flowed from them both in their hazy states and desperate movements.

She looked into his face, full of some kind of lustrous assurance, "Give it to me. Now."

Their bodies began writhing erotically as he lost his virginity, his face a symphony of reactions as he pushed into her. They fucked for minutes and it looked incredibly steamy, hands grabbing hair, nails digging into each other, only for him to pull away at the end with a dumbfounded expression. He had a slight appearance of being horrified as it dawned on him what he'd done. She of course, was oblivious to the gravity of the circumstances as she jumped off the counter and approached him.

Young Madeleine tried to kiss him again, and he only whispered "I'm sorry," and sprinted from the bathroom. My vision of the scene clouded and I was being pulled out of the memory as it concluded.

I stood back from the bowl in consternation, feeling sweaty from the unexpected realization that our first time had been so messy and accidental. I clutched either sides of the bowl, thinking deeply about all of the details I'd just learned. Draco was next to me frowning with dread. He had his arms crossed defensively, clearly worried.

"Who's Greengrass?" I asked in confusion.


End file.
